


Prometheus

by Xairathan



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: F/F, Okay like come on it's canon compliant don't make me tag everyone, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 07:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 88,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10849503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xairathan/pseuds/Xairathan
Summary: "One day, I found a fire and was overcome with delight at the warmth I experienced from it." -Mary Shelley, Frankenstein





	1. Menoetius

The First Child sits in her room, the Commander’s old, broken glasses clasped between her hands. Functionally, they serve no purpose- Rei has no need for glasses, and the lenses are too cracked to see out of even if she did. It’s her one sentimental allowance, this relic, a reminder that the Commander had once saved her, even though he didn’t need to.

Rei’s thought about it often since then- in the moments of waking that preclude sleep, when she stares out the window of the school classroom, tuning out the teacher’s voice. She’s been told two things since she first awoke- that her purpose is to carry out Gendo’s Scenario, and that she is ultimately replaceable. The Commander himself told her this, and yet he was the one who saved her.

There must be something in that act that carries meaning, but Rei doesn’t know what.

Her hands tighten on the glasses; she hears the plastic frames strain and crack beneath her touch. Rei turns and places them on the table beside her bed, where they lay reflecting the sunlight trickling in through the window.

Today, there is no class, and so Rei will stay in her apartment. There’s no need for her to go outside- Section 2 brings her food once a week, and she receives all the sun she needs from her window and the balcony just outside her apartment, where she’ll sometimes stand and watch the birds fly across the quad below. She’s waiting, as she always does, for orders. They never come on days like these, but something about today feels different: she can sense it in the air. Someone is coming today.

Briefly, Rei wonders if it might be Shinji. But no, there isn’t any reason for him to come. On a day like this, where would he be? Probably in Misato’s apartment with the Second, Rei thinks. She doesn’t understand how he can bear being in close proximity with her so frequently. Maybe he’s grown used to it, maybe behind that quiet exterior he longs for company, no matter who it is. Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t hate the color red, which Asuka seems to exude so frequently. Rei’s never seen her without her neural clips, not even during their P.E. classes, as if Asuka is reminding not only herself but the rest of the world that she is an EVA pilot.

Another alternative- it might be Rei who’s just the odd one out, preferring the quiet and the solitude of her mind to the constant presence and chatter of others. Rei can bear the Commander since he rarely speaks outside of giving orders; she can tolerate Shinji, who’s gentle and soft-spoken. It’s the Second who Rei can’t stand, who always seems to have something to say whenever they’re in the same room together for more than two seconds, a blazing ball of emotions that Rei decidedly would be better off not knowing.

Rei’s eyes scan the room, falling upon Gendo’s glasses again. Here’s the greatest paradox in her otherwise simple life: she shouldn’t feel, since emotions would only get in the way of the Scenario, but she knows she should feel something. Gratitude most likely; yes, that’s it. She should be grateful that Commander Ikari wrested her from the entry plug, that he- did he save her? The others say he did, though Rei doesn’t quite remember. What she does remember is the ringing of his voice, the grating of metal as he worked to free her from the entry plug. Rei wonders now what he might have felt aside from the burning of his palms: a sense of urgency, but why? If she truly was replaceable, why bother with the effort?

The simple answer is that he cared. Of course he did- he raised her, after all. Beyond that, Rei isn’t quite sure. There must be something to describe it, a word to put to this strange stirring in her chest, but she doesn’t know and she’s never thought to ask. The knowledge is irrelevant to the Scenario, and thus to her.

But she feels it all the same in fleeting moments that she can never seem to hold on to: the warmth that sometimes fills her body when she looks at the glasses, the memory of Shinji telling her to smile. It’s the things like these, irrelevant but not, that confuse her, that she tries to avoid accumulating any more of. It’s why, though she’ll never admit it, she stays in her apartment. Things are simple here, and she doesn’t have to feel anything.

There are footsteps outside, ringing in the stairwell. Rei knows from their weight, from the echoes, that it must be Section 2. They’re coming to retrieve her. That’s odd- there’s been no notification from the Commander that she’s needed at NERV today, but perhaps it’s something urgent.

Rei’s opened the door by the time the first of the men in suits come into view. “First,” one of them says. “You will come with us.”

“Yes,” Rei answers, and steps out of her apartment. She leaves the door slightly ajar, following Section 2 down the staircase. She doesn’t need to lock it; the thought never crosses her mind. No one comes here for Rei Ayanami, not unless she’s needed.

* * *

They drop her off a few blocks from one of NERV’s surface entrances and tell her the Second and Third will be coming along shortly. There’ll be a sync test, assuming Doctor Akagi activates Unit-00 without any trouble. Rei has no reason to believe Akagi will fail, and so she prepares herself while she waits. The best sync tests are done with a clear mind and sharp focus-

And as soon as Asuka crests over the top of the nearby hill, shouting something at Shinji, who’s lagging behind her, all of Rei’s concentration shatters. “First!” she hears Asuka call from atop the slope. “Decided to grace us with your presence, I see.”

“Second,” Rei says, her tone flat; this is the only greeting she’s ever offered to Asuka, the only one she can see herself offering. Even ‘Soryu’ is too much for her; it implies a level of closeness to the Second Child that Rei will never see herself having, and she doesn’t want to encourage anything. She doesn’t want to be friends. She wants to be left in her apartment, as far away from human contact as possible until her duty requires it.

“Ayanami!” Shinji manages to wave as he reaches the top of the hill, pausing to rest his hands upon his knees. “Asuka, do you have to walk so fast? We aren’t scheduled to do that sync test for at least another hour!”

“ _Kaji’s_ in the Geofront,” Asuka says, stressing the first syllable. “The sooner we get there, the sooner we can find him!”

Which means, Rei notes, that she would be rid of Asuka’s company. For once she and the Second can agree on something, and that is getting to a surface entrance as quickly as possible. Asuka sweeps past; Rei follows after her, turning briefly to make sure Shinji is coming after them, then trails Asuka down the sidewalk.

They continue onward, a disjointed sort of train with Asuka at the head, and Rei and Shinji lagging behind. For once it’s Shinji who’s at the back, and this leaves Rei to follow Asuka at a distance she finds comfortable- not too close, so Asuka won’t try and talk to her (and Rei won’t have to look so much at her hair), not too far so Asuka won’t snap at her.

Shinji doesn’t catch up entirely until they’re at the entrance to the Geofront. Asuka stands to the side, uniform shoes tapping an impatient beat on the pavement while Rei swipes her card through the reader. Nothing. She swipes again, aware that the Second Child now looms over her shoulder with narrowed eyes, as if the sheer force of her demanding presence would cause the reader to suddenly work. There’s still nothing.

“Let me try that!” Asuka says. Rei feels a hand grip her shoulder- warm, firm- and Asuka pushes her to the side, swiping her own card through the slot, then repeatedly running it along the reader.

“I think they’re all broken,” Shinji says from the next turnstile.

“Of course they’re broken, stupid!” Asuka says, turning from the card reader and examining the city around her. She stows the card in her school bag, storming towards the stairways a little ways away, the ones that lead to the cargo transports. “Some place this is, can’t even keep things working.”

Shinji pauses to shove his card into his pocket, offering Rei a tiny shrug and a smile. Rei ignores this, marching after Asuka, trying one of the locked metal doors. “It appears these entry points are all broken, too.”

“No kidding,” Asuka shoots back, her tone laced with sarcasm. Still, she tries the door in front of her. It stays shut, as she’d expected. “Damn it!” she says, stomping a foot against the ground. “Did something happen down there?”

A thought springs to Rei’s mind, one that would be unusual to anyone who hadn’t had years of conditioning and training. She sits on a nearby chair, digging in her bag for the small pamphlet given to all pilots for emergencies. Asuka turns, sees her, and starts doing the same. “Of course!” she says, pausing in her search only to snap at Shinji when he asks what she’s doing. “The emergency protocols!”

“It says we should go to the Headquarters,” Rei says, reading off the card. Her mouth twists in what might be a hint of a frown, eyes narrowing at the thin text. The contingencies have nothing on what to do in case of a total loss of power, yet another failing that NERV hasn’t taken into account until it’s far too late. But of course it would be this way- the only thing Gendo’s bothered to consider in full is his Scenario and the inevitable confrontation with SEELE.

“Well then let’s go!” Asuka says. “But first, we should choose a leader. I, of course, volunteer.”

“Asuka-” begins Shinji, but Asuka’s already passed by him, taking long strides.

“Second.” Rei stands, replacing her protocol card in her bag. “There is an underground service shaft in the opposite direction.”

“Shut up, First, I knew that!” Asuka storms by, retracing her steps. “I just was- testing your knowledge of the facility!”

It’s a lie, of course, but Rei doesn’t argue it. Doing so would only be a waste of her energy when there’s much more to worry about- the power outage, the disturbing lack of contact from below. She trudges after Asuka, Shinji again bringing up the rear, as the three of them descend into one of the many underground passages into the Geofront. There’s a tingling feeling in her chest, not the same sensation as the one she usually feels before entering combat- no, if she were to put a name to this emotion, it would be annoyance. An unnecessary thing: it plays no role in the Scenario, and thus Rei doesn’t need to feel it.

Rei attempts to shove this feeling down, and yet it persists. It lingers in her stomach, makes her want to clench her hands into fists, or perhaps tell the Second that Rei knows she isn’t nearly as confident in where she’s going as she appears to be. It shows: her steps are forceful against the steel floor, and her blue eyes dart around the corridor every few seconds.

They come to a door at last. Asuka plants herself in front of it, pointing directly ahead. “This has got to be it!” she declares, and approaches the door. A well-aimed kick throws it open, bright sunlight peering down to illuminate the dark tunnel that the pilots had just traversed. There’s a single, crystal clear moment in which the stillness of the city sweeps over them, and then a gigantic dark mass slams down in front of the door.

“What the-” Asuka staggers back, arms pinwheeling. One nearly catches Shinji in the face; Rei step to the side, neatly avoiding the other. “What is that?”

Rei approaches the doorway, peers out into the sunshine just as the mass lifts off the ground, vanishing from sight. There’s another mass in the distance, reminiscent of a large, spindly spider’s leg. And something more- a stirring in her gut, visceral and sickening. Rei too stumbles back, her face contorting with distaste. “Angel,” she says through the sudden dryness of her mouth, and wonders why she’s so physically bothered by this. She’s been trained for this duty for as long as she can remember, but actually being within touching distance of the Angel is another thing entirely.

“An Angel?” Shinji grabs the metal door and swings it shut, blocking the Angel and the city from view. The churning in Rei’s stomach doesn’t dissipate, not yet, not until she’s sure the Angel’s moved far beyond the tunnel she’s huddled in. “Shouldn’t we hurry to NERV, then?”

“That’d be fine, if we knew where we were going!” snaps Asuka.

“I thought you knew?” says Shinji.

“I do, I just-”

“It is this way.” Rei finds herself staring into the darkness of the next corridor. She doesn’t remember walking there, or when she stopped shaking, but she’s there. “Come.”

She advances down the tunnel without waiting for Asuka or Shinji. They hurry after her, footsteps ringing in tandem, and as always it’s Asuka who catches up to her first. “Of course the Commander’s favorite would know where to go,” she says, and there’s something in her tone that makes Rei bristle in a way that seeing the Angel had, only warmer.

“I am not his favorite,” Rei replies.

“Of course you are!” Asuka turns sharply, and Rei nearly runs into her. Asuka bars the way with her arms outstretched, glaring at the First Child. “The Commander’s precious pet who does everything he asks, who’s perfect at everything.”

“Asuka-” Shinji begins.

“Shut it! Tell me something, First. Do you feel at all? Or do you just do as you’re told and nothing else?”

The answer that Asuka’s looking for, obviously, is that Rei doesn’t feel a thing. It’s an answer that wouldn’t be true: Rei does feel around Asuka, quite clearly in fact, and that emotion she feels is annoyance. But of course, she isn’t supposed to feel, and so Rei shakes her head and brushes past the Second Child.

“I knew it,” Asuka mutters, hovering by Rei’s shoulder. “I bet you think you’re better than us, don’t you?”

“I do not.”

“Whatever.” Asuka dismisses this with a wave of her hand. She glares at Rei again, expecting her to say something, but the only thing that Asuka hears is silence.

They come to a stop some minutes later in front of a hatchway partly blocked by debris and twisted metal spars. Rei immediately begins to dig through the surrounding rubble while Asuka and Shinji approach the door, gazing up at it.

“Is this the right place?” Shinji asks.

“Does it look like it?” Asuka places a hand on the concrete slab obstructing half the doorway. “Wonder Girl’s led us in the wrong direction-”

“NERV is past that corridor,” Rei says, calmly picking up a steel rod from the ground. “The way is blocked. The easiest solution is to open an air vent, then travel through the ventilation shafts.”

“Can we do that?” Shinji’s eyes dart from the rod in Rei’s hands to the vent mounted on the wall. “Will we fit?”

“We will need to crawl, but I believe we will be able to access NERV Headquarters in such a manner.”

“Crawl? In these?” Rei’s eye twitches imperceptibly as she begins prying at the vent. Asuka’s voice has hit that shrill pitch that means she’s going to start shouting soon, and it’s either that or just the sound of it that makes Rei wish Asuka was still on the other side of the planet. “There’s no way I’m going in there, not with Shinji!”

“Why not?” Shinji asks. He’s managed to pry up a piece of rubble, holding it with both hands as he lumbers over to the vent to help Rei open it.

“Because! I don’t need you looking up my skirt!”

“I… I can go in front-”

“ _You_ , go in front? I’d have better luck asking Wonder Girl here for directions!”

“At least she knows where to go, I think-”

At last Rei manages to slip the rod into a crack between the wall and the grate. She tugs on the rod, and the vent covering clatters to the ground, drowning out the sound of Asuka and Shinji’s bickering. The other two pilots turn towards Rei, momentarily silenced.

“Ikari will go through first,” says Rei, tossing the rod to the side. It bangs off a rock and falls into the piles of debris to be lost from sight. “Soryu will follow. I will be last. I will give Ikari directions.”

“What?” Asuka advances up the rise of packed gravel, draws within a breath’s distance of Rei. “You expect you can just follow me like that? What if you’re looking up my skirt, too? Huh?”

“I see no reason why I would want to do that.”

Rei thinks there might be a tinge of red on Asuka’s cheeks as she turns away, wheeling on Shinji, who’s standing watching this with the rubble still clenched in his hands. “What’re you staring at?” she snaps. “This turn you on, or something?”

“N-no-”

“You’re pathetic! Just get moving already.” Asuka grabs the rock from Shinji with one hand, tosses it to the side. It bounces off a larger piece of rubble, splitting into multiple parts as it falls. “There’s an Angel out there, remember?”

“Okay!” Shinji approaches the vent, places his hands on the metal. He peers into the darkness beyond, grey walls extending until they merge and blend with the shadows. “Rei, are you sure this is going to take us to NERV?”

“It will.”

Shinji’s feet disappear into the vent as he crawls through, every movement producing a rattling sound. Already Rei can tell this will most likely be unpleasant. At least with Shinji in the lead, Rei knows he’ll follow her instructions.

Asuka approaches the mouth of the vent, hesitating as she places her hands on either side of the opening. “How far is it to Headquarters?” she asks. She still sounds angry, Rei thinks, but her voice isn’t as hard as before- there’s something undermining it, but what it is Rei doesn’t care to know.

“It is not far,” replies Rei. “If you worry that the Angel will strike before we arrive, it will not.”

“I don’t see why I can’t just go behind you.” Asuka’s mouth curves into a frown, and her blue eyes flash sharply in Rei’s direction. “No, wait. There’s no way I’m going behind you. Fine, I’ll go second, but if I catch you looking up my skirt you’ll have to answer for it later.”

“That is not something I intend to do.”

Asuka sniffs and lowers her head, crawling into the ventilation shaft after Shinji. Rei hears her banging down the narrow corridor, knocking elbows and knees against the walls. Briefly she wonders if the ventilation system will hold the three of them on their descent. Of course it would- surely this is a contingency that Commander Ikari had planned for when the facility was built, isn’t it? It has to be. The Commander thinks of everything. Rei knows this.

She climbs into the shaft, the blue of Asuka’s uniform just barely visible ahead. Further down, Shinji is navigating the tunnel with the speed of a snail. Perhaps Rei’s estimate was wrong- perhaps they’ll arrive just as the Angel does, and then what’ll they do? No- Commander Ikari will have a plan for that, too.

Rei shifts her attention to the metal beneath her palms, still warm but cooling. The power’s been out here for quite a while then, and the problem extends below the surface of the city. That the entire Geofront’s been crippled is a possibility Rei hasn’t considered. If the power is out, the Evangelions won’t be able to launch, and if they can’t launch-

“Rei?” Shinji’s voice drifts back towards her. “Which way do we go?”

“Right,” says Rei. She hears more rattling as Shinji departs down the right branch of vents, Asuka following closely behind. If anything, she notes, despite Asuka’s feigned indifference, she appears to be the one who most wants to get to NERV. Maybe she wants to fight the Angel already, or just to get somewhere that isn’t dark and cramped. It isn’t a concern of Rei’s. She feels no such urgency- just the steady beating of her heart, reflecting the lack of obligation within her. The only thing Rei Ayanami is beholden to is Commander Ikari’s plan, and this is but a small part of it.

Shinji calls again, and Rei answers. In the middle of this, Asuka remains silent. It’s a curious silence, one that Rei allows herself to dwell on briefly. It’s possible that the Second Child, like herself, is lost in thought. More likely, she’s just trying to get to Headquarters as quickly as possible so she can get into Unit-02. Of all the pilots, Asuka is the one most at home in her Evangelion, and if it weren’t for her oversized ego and inability to take instructions, Rei thinks she might have been a decent pilot otherwise.

The tunnel begins to slope downwards, gently, the only hint that they’re beginning to near their destination. The air here is warmer, thicker, like a physical pressure threatening at any moment to send them crashing through the vents to whatever lies below. Up ahead, Shinji seems to sense this- he moves quicker, as much as is possible in this tight space.

Then, up ahead, Shinji stops. Rei lifts her head, trying to spot what kind of intersection the Third Child has encountered, and instead finds herself looking at exactly what Asuka told her not to. She expects, for a moment, that Asuka will somehow wheel around in the cramped vent and begin shouting at her. Instead Asuka says, “What is it now?”

“Don’t you hear that?” asks Shinji. “I hear voices.”

“Then why are you stopping, idiot?” Asuka prods Shinji’s thigh with an impatient finger. “We’re almost there!”

“I just wanted to ask Rei if-”

“She hasn’t said anything, so get moving!”

“But-”

Between Asuka and Shinji’s voices echoing in the tunnel, Rei barely notices the creaking noise coming from beneath them. Shinji falls from view; a moment later, Asuka shrieks and is gone too. Then there’s a split second in which Rei feels weightless, not quite the same sensation as the one she gets from being immersed in LCL. It’s almost like the time her entry plug was ejected, but this time there’s Asuka’s body to soften her landing. Rei drops from the vent, somehow ending upright with her feet planted on Asuka’s uniform. Again she expects shouting, complaints, but Shinji just groans and Asuka directs her blue eyes upward. “Get off!”

Rei steps away, for the first time taking in where they’ve ended up. By chance, they’ve arrived in the EVA bays: the sources of the voices Shinji heard are down below, crews of NERV personnel working to prepare the EVAs for launch. Rei passes her gaze over them and glimpses familiar orange spectacles and white gloves- Commander Ikari. So this was his plan; of course he would be prepared. There was no reason to worry at all.

Misato rushes up a stairwell to their right. That urgency that Rei doesn’t feel is present in her voice, in her touch as she tries to herd the three pilots from the scaffold where they’ve landed towards their EVAs. Rei begins walking towards hers without Misato’s urging. She doesn’t need to be told where to go- she’s always known; it comes with the same certainty that tells her she doesn’t need to worry about the upcoming battle.

If she dies, she can be replaced.

Asuka and Shinji vanish in the opposite direction, but the sound of Asuka’s voice lingers far after she’s gone from sight. She isn’t angry, but she sounds it, and here’s that confusion that Rei doesn’t want to bother with, here are Asuka’s emotions being flung onto her, and when Rei climbs into the entry plug and is sealed off from the rest of the world, it comes as a relief.

Now she can focus on what lies ahead- the Angel, and perhaps that cessation of life she’s been promised. It won’t quite be an end; there’ll always be another Rei until there isn’t the need for one any longer, but it will mean the end of this one. If that’s the cost of defeating an Angel, then everything will even out. More Angels will come, and another Rei Ayanami will be the one to face them.

Briefly Rei wonders what it might be like to die. She’s been told that others are afraid of it, of the inevitability- it might hurt, but death itself implies an end, and isn’t that what she’s been waiting for, anyway?

The EVA lurches beneath her, systems powering up. The Commander’s voice booms from the outside, aided by a megaphone. “Push off the restraints,” he says. “Move your EVAs to the launch track.”

Rei complies, wondering for a moment exactly how the EVAs are expected to launch with the facility blacked out. Then there’s Misato’s voice: equally loud, directing the pilots with such unremarkable confidence that it would seem like this is just another Angel to fight, that the entirety of NERV lies crippled with the enemy at its doorstep. “There’s enough hydraulic fluid left in the track to send you all up, but once you’re there, you only have five minutes. Even if we had power, there’s no way to get the umbilical cords into the ventilation ducts. The Angel is directly over one of the maintenance shafts. It’s already melted through the street, and if it continues, it’ll come straight through the Geofront.”

“Vents again,” Asuka mumbles. Rei imagines the Second Child sitting in her EVA with her arms folded across her chest, head turned to the side in a show of indifference. Would she be afraid to die, Rei wonders. Most likely, yes- there’s no glory in death for her, only in piloting.

“Rei, you’ll grab a pallet rifle from the weapons depot. Unfortunately we can’t access any others because of the outage. That’ll be the only weapon you have.”

“Wait, did she say ‘melted’?” asks Shinji.

“Remember, you don’t have much time. Move out!”

Before any of the pilots can say another word, the catapults fire. Rei braces herself, grabbing tightly to the control sticks. No matter what they call this- launching, deploying, whatever word Misato’s decided to employ- this feeling is the same, of being thrown upward, and part of Rei expects at any moment to encounter something blocking her path. She expects to crash against it, to fall, to be hurt again, so when the EVAs begin to slow the unfamiliarity of it all makes her pause.

“Get into gear, Wonder Girl!” Asuka shouts. Unit-02 has already left its catapult, crawling through an opening in the walls. A maintenance tunnel, Rei notes, conveniently EVA-sized.

“What did she say about melting?” Shinji urges his EVA after Asuka’s, head low so as not to drag Unit-01’s horn through the top of the tunnel. Rei turns, grabbing a rifle as Misato had instructed, and follows after him.

This time, though Asuka’s in the lead, they seem to be going in the right direction. It’s probably because there only _is_ one direction to go. Rei gets the feeling that Asuka will brag about this at some point, makes a mental note to herself to try not to point that out. As much as it seems irrelevant to her, the Second Child’s self-esteem is supposedly critical to her success as a pilot, and so she will not interfere. There’s that nagging curiosity again: she wants to know _why_ it matters to Asuka, even if it shouldn’t matter at all. Perhaps it’d help Rei understand why the Second Child is so annoying.

There’s a bang: Asuka’s kicked in the thin metal grate blocking the way out of the duct. Her EVA disappears from sight, moving upward. A moment later, she hears Asuka declare, “There’s the Angel, dead ahead.” Shinji swings out, climbing up, and by the time Rei gets into the maintenance shaft there’s barely any room to visually confirm the Angel’s presence. She’ll have to rely on Asuka’s report: there’s supposed to be something funny about that, Rei thinks, but she doesn’t quite understand why.

“Rei, you’ve got the rifle, right?” says Shinji. “Shoot it.”

“Don’t shoot it!” Asuka snaps. “Pass it up here. If you shoot from down there, you’ll end up hitting one of us!”

“I will not,” Rei says, though the idea of shooting the pallet rifle in the maintenance shaft sounds ludicrous. To do so, she’ll have to use both hands, and if she does that her EVA will no longer have a grip and she’ll fall.

“I bet you don’t even have a good shot from down there. Can you even see it? I-”

“Guys?” There’s a nervous note to Shinji’s voice, rising to the surface of it. A second later, something splatters on the shoulder of Rei’s EVA. She thinks Unit-01’s sprung a leak somehow, but then Unit-00 is sliding back down the maintenance shaft, and there’s more of this raining down from above. She hears Asuka shriek; Unit-02 impacts on Unit-01, and then both EVAs begin to crash down upon Rei’s.

“The tunnel!” Asuka shouts. “Get back to the tunnel!”

By some luck, Unit-00’s hand catches on a seam between plates in the wall. That’s all Rei needs to slow their descent; she clambers into the tunnel where they came from, followed closely by the others. A moment later, a stream of orange liquid plummets past the space they once filled, dripping towards the heart of NERV.

“So that’s what Misato meant…” Shinji’s face pops up in the lower-left corner of Rei’s screen. Asuka’s appears too; she glares directly ahead, and Rei can’t tell whether that gaze is meant for herself or Shinji, or both of them.

“What was that?”

“Acid,” mutters Rei. “The Angel is trying to attack NERV directly with it.”

“What’re we going to do?” asks Shinji.

“We’re going to kill it, duh!” Unit-02 smacks a fist against the metal walls, producing a ringing that makes Rei want to cover her ears. Leave it to Asuka to be as abrasive as possible, even during combat.

“How? Rei dropped the rifle, and we’re down to less than three minutes.”

This causes Asuka to pause. It appears, for once, she’s taking this seriously- which would mean she hadn’t been doing that before, but wasn’t piloting the only thing she truly enjoyed? Rei frowns, and the visual feed shifts slightly, focusing on Unit-02. This might be it, the moment in which Rei decides Asuka is too confusing to understand and her efforts are better used elsewhere. It won’t be, though. This paradox of Asuka’s is one that’s too enticing to look away from, that swirling mix of emotions that keeps Rei’s attention even as it repulses her.

At last, Asuka speaks. “I’ve got a plan,” she says. “We’ll do it in three parts. The defense stays here and shields the others from the acid. One of us will go down to the bottom, retrieve the rifle, and throw it up. Whoever gets the rifle will shoot it. The defense will get out of the way, and we’ll kill the Angel that way. Got it?”

“Understood. I will serve as the defense-”

“No way!” Asuka’s voice splits through the communications, drowning out Rei’s. “I’m doing it.”

“But Asuka, isn’t it dangerous?” asks Shinji.

“Precisely. I owe you from our last fight. You don’t think I was just going to forget about that, do you? You fire the rifle. Rei can get it. Understood?”

The way Asuka gives orders, Rei notes, is nothing like how Misato does it. Asuka gives orders just to give them; Rei wants to point out the flaws in Asuka’s plan, mainly that Rei- the replaceable one, as they’ve established- should be the one shielding the others. But they’re far too short on time to debate this, and she knows Asuka will stand firm, so she merely nods. After a moment, Shinji does too.

The EVAs gather near the mouth of the vent, watch as more acid goes by. “Go!” Asuka shouts, and Unit-02 grabs the lip of the vent and flings itself upward. The red EVA spreads itself across the maintenance shaft, blocking out the sight of the Angel, the light, and the acid that comes pouring from above. There’s no avoiding it, and as Rei lands at the base of the shaft she hears Asuka groaning, the shuddering of metal above as Unit-02 fights to keep its hold.

“Ayanami!” Shinji shouts, the hand of Unit-01 extended to receive the rifle. Rei tosses it up; Shinji catches it in one motion, the EVA bringing it up to a firing position. “Asuka!”

Asuka doesn’t need to hear anything more: she throws her EVA out of the way, narrowly avoiding the stream of bullets Shinji sends flying towards the Angel. They don’t see the shots connect: Asuka’s EVA lands heavily atop Unit-01, and they slide back towards the vent. Through the link in their EVAs Rei hears Asuka say, “There. We’re even.” Then the volume cuts out: Unit-01 and 02 lose their grips on the sides of the maintenance shaft as their batteries fail, fingers cutting deep into the metal as the EVAs come to settle on the bottom next to Rei’s.

Even stuck here in the darkness and silence, Rei knows Asuka must be cheering in her entry plug, something like that. Here’s another puzzle for Rei to work out: what exactly _had_ Shinji done for Asuka’s pride to insist she be the defensive position? It’s something, no doubt, that will stay between them both. There won’t be any use asking, and even if she did, what would she want that knowledge for. Curiosity? Yes, that must be it- and that won’t do at all.

Eventually Rei hears a tapping at the outside of her EVA, the sound of voices from before. There is grating, a shift in the LCL around her, and at last the entry plug pops open and she can make out the figures of workers just outside. One helps her out of the entry plug, points her in the direction of a door. “The others are waiting for you,” he says. “The power’s still out, so Captain Katsuragi is going to take you someplace else until the power’s back.”

Rei nods and walks past the workers clumped around the EVAs like so many ants. She doesn’t question why she was retrieved last, why the others left without her. These thoughts don’t register within her: the curiosity from before is gone. Alone, among the NERV personnel, she is simply the First Child. They don’t look up as she passes by them; Rei doesn’t spare them a glance. They are all working towards the same goal, Ikari’s, though Rei is the only one aware of it.

* * *

 

Misato drives them to a hill overlooking Tokyo-3, which to Asuka would be nice if she hadn’t been wedged between Shinji and Rei on the drive there. She wrestles herself free of the seat belt as soon as Misato slows to a stop, clambering over the First Child in her haste to exit the car. “Ahh, fresh air!” she says, hopping out onto the grass. “Where are we, Misato? This is the middle of nowhere!”

“I thought you three might want to get away from everything after that fight,” answers Misato. Asuka looks away, concealing a roll of her eyes. Of course Misato’s idea of somewhere to relax would be a nondescript, plain place like this.

“Couldn’t have taken us to the hot springs again?” Asuka mutters beneath her breath, though she knows it’s an impossibility. She wouldn’t want to share the same water with Rei either, now that she thinks about it.

“Ritsuko told me it shouldn’t take too long for everything to get working again.” Misato consults her phone, looks out at the blacked-out city, a jumble of jagged shadows against the distant hills. “I have a few calls to make. You three can hang around here, but don’t go too far.”

Shinji slides out from the car, staring up at the star-filled sky. He turns back, placing one hand on the roof of the car as he bends slightly. “Hey,” he says, and Asuka realizes he must be addressing Rei. “You should come out here. It’s nice. Kind of like that time before the Fifth Angel.”

“She’s not gonna come out here,” Asuka scoffs, but she’s spoken too soon. A pale arm emerges from the car, ignoring Shinji’s offered hand; Rei steps out, and the first impression Asuka gets is that she’s looking at a ghost. She sniffs, turns on her heel, and stalks a little ways away to throw herself down upon the grass. Shinji and Rei follow her- of course they would, couldn’t they think on their own for once?- and lie down beside her, one on either side.

“The stars look so much better with all the lights off,” Shinji says.

“It’s so dead, though!” says Asuka. “All these dark buildings. It’s like no one lives down there.” On the horizon, a flickering- one that blossoms quickly into towers of light. The city is coming back to life, drowning out the sky with its artificial brilliance. “See? Much better.”

“Man fears the darkness, so he scrapes away at the edge of it with fire.” The voice speaking is so soft that for a second Asuka can’t place it: she’s not entirely used to how the First Child sounds yet.

“Ooh, what’s this? Our Wonder Girl is a _phi-lo-so-pher_.”

There’s a brief silence, stretching on just long enough to be awkward. There’s no answer to what Asuka’s said. Some part of Asuka, deep inside, chides herself for expecting a reaction from Rei.

“I wonder if that makes man special, then,” Shinji says. How like him- missing the point entirely. “Is that why the Angels attack us?”

“Don’t be stupid! How’re we supposed to know something like that?”

“Well, I- Rei, what do you think?”

“I do not know,” Rei says. It’s as good of an answer as they’ll get. The First Child’s mind has gone wandering, has been drifting ever since the pilots got into Misato’s car. The question of the night: again, what would it be like to fear? She thinks of man and his lights and the inevitable: death is darkness, and Instrumentality will be happening soon. It’s useless to fear something that will come, eventually.

Her eyes wander to Asuka, to Shinji sitting behind her. Would they feel fear in the end? She can’t imagine that Shinji would; if anything he would go towards it and accept it in the same measured way he moves through the world. Asuka- she wouldn’t go in fear, either. Rei imagines Asuka’s end to be an explosion, all the emotions contained in that body fleeing into the world all at once. An end that might be called beautiful, if there would be anyone left to witness it- Rei doesn’t imagine that anything less than instrumentality could finally still her.

Shinji gets to his feet, arms stretching upwards. “Where are you going?” Asuka asks without looking away from the city.

“I want to see if Misato’s done,” he replies. “I’m kind of tired after all that.”

Asuka waves a hand; Shinji, interpreting it as dismissal, turns and starts back up the hill. He leaves behind Asuka, who’s settled back against the grass with her hands under her head, and Rei, who watches her closely. She seems, somehow, entirely relaxed, as if she hadn’t hours before had acid pouring down on her.

“Second.” The word slips from Rei’s lips almost carelessly, an accident brought on by her thoughts. Asuka’s head whips around, eyes focusing like blue spotlights on Rei. It occurs to Rei that without Shinji there, the totality of Asuka’s attention will fall upon her, and for a moment she’s left with her mind completely empty, the stale air in her lungs clawing for an escape.

“What is it?” asks Asuka. She waves a hand in front of Rei’s face. It looks like she might move closer to see if she can startle Rei, anything to get that vacant stare off her face. “Hello?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” says Asuka. Rei’s voice sounds distant, restrained. Asuka repeats the waving motion from before, lowering her hand when Rei’s eyes shift slightly and settle on hers.

“Why did you protect us?”

“Weren’t you paying attention? I owed Shinji from before, and now I don’t.”

“You needed to defend your pride, so you chose to risk your safety. That is illogical, Second. If you are killed, you will no longer be able to pilot.”

“Do you think I’m that incompetent?” Asuka tilts her head to the side, a grin upon her face that slowly metamorphoses into unceasing laughter. “There’s no way I’m going to get killed by an Angel! You’re joking, right?”

“I am not,” Rei whispers, but the words don’t quite leave her. They lodge in her throat, held there by the same pressure that keeps her still now: Asuka’s confidence, she realizes, a force so potent it might as well be a tangible thing. How nice it must be, to feel such things, to believe in oneself so totally that death doesn’t register as a threat. There’s the answer to Rei’s question from before, though now she wishes she’d never asked it: this proximity to Asuka is too much, and her emotions threaten to spill over and touch Rei.

“Why are you so worried about me, anyway?” asks Asuka. “I thought you didn’t care about anyone besides your precious Commander.”

“I am curious,” Rei says. “The logical choice for the defender would have been me.”

“And why’s that?”

“If I die, I can be replaced.”

“That’s nonsense, First. It’s not like NERV has someone ready for Unit-00 if something happens to you. Thinking like that’s just going to get you killed.”

Rei bites back her instinctual response, the one that tells her that Asuka is wrong: in ignorance of Ikari’s plan, but still wrong. Atop the hill, Misato’s car roars to life, horn sounding across the landscape.

“Looks like she’s ready,” Asuka says, getting up and brushing herself off. “I’m going.”

She leaves Rei by herself, still sitting in the grass with this new puzzle to solve. Both Shinji and Asuka, for all their differences, refuse to believe that she is replaceable. And yet, it’s the truth, though the others will never know why. For some reason Rei finds herself hoping they’ll never find out.

Rei stands, preparing to depart from the hill and return to the city. She knows Section 2 will be there to retrieve her when Misato arrives at her apartment. She knows she’ll be taken to her residence, that Commander Ikari’s glasses will be waiting for her there, watching her through sightless orange lenses.

Orange. Orange like the lights of the city, like LCL pouring out of the entry plug as the door is yanked aside by gloved hands. Orange like acid dripping from above, blocked by the body of Unit-02.

It seems, Rei thinks as she turns away from the city, that no matter how large her world grows, the only ones who’ll think her replaceable are herself and the Commander.

* * *

 

It’s wishful thinking to hope that a blackout would cancel classes the next day, but of course life must go on as normal. Asuka’s eyes sweep the classroom, observing the other students gathered in groups for lunch. They don’t know that an Angel attacked the day before; they will never realize how narrowly it was defeated. That’s a secret that will lay with Asuka; with Shinji who stands by Toji’s desk, talking to him and Kensuke; with Rei, staring out the window at the sky above.

Idly, Asuka wonders what Rei might be thinking of. Does she even think; are there any thoughts in that skull of hers that don’t deal with piloting and orders? It’s a question that bothers Asuka, but that’s not quite it: she’s avoiding the real question. _Does Rei really believe she can be replaced?_

Asuka tells herself it’s just morbid curiosity that makes her want to know, and not the memory that follows her from waking into her dreams, the knowledge that before the end, Kyoko had replaced her. Maybe she’s been reading Rei wrong this whole time, and she’s not the first one the Commander has favored. Things would make more sense that way- but that still doesn’t explain Rei’s utter lack of a reaction to anything.

Asuka stands slowly, methodically, careful to avoid attention. She picks her way through her classmates over to Rei and leans forward, hands splayed out upon her desk. “Ayanami,” she says, and her voice is hushed: this is a conversation for pilots only, but more so for Asuka’s own satisfaction. “Last night, when you said you could be replaced- what did you mean by that?”

Rei turns her head, adjusting herself slightly in her seat. “I meant that if I died, it would not impact the ability of you or Ikari to pilot. You will not-”

“That’s bullshit!” Asuka hisses. There’s something in her hand, warm and firm; she looks down and realizes she’s taken hold of Rei’s arm. “Do you know what’ll happen if we get a new pilot?” Rei opens her mouth, but Asuka barrels on, not allowing her a word. “We’ll have to get used to them, we’ll have to _coordinate_ with them and try to get along, they’ll have to get _competent_. Do you know how much work that’s going to be? Way too much! You’re not replaceable, First, and you’d better quit thinking that way, or you’ll regret it!”

Asuka throws Rei’s arm down hard against the table. A flicker of something, maybe pain, flashes across Rei’s face as her elbow knocks into the wooden desk. The room has gone quiet around them, silence radiating out from Rei’s desk in ripples; no one knows what it is that Soryu and Ayanami spoke about, but Asuka is angry about something.

Hikari catches Asuka as she storms away, gliding up beside her. “What happened?” she asks, but Asuka brushes her aside and makes a beeline for Shinji. She grabs his elbow, pulling him to the back of the classroom, where at least if anyone tries eavesdropping they’ll be easy to spot.

“Asuka?” Shinji says. “What’s going on?”

“Wonder Girl’s being an idiot, as usual, that’s what’s going on,” Asuka snaps.

“What’d she say?”

“I’ll tell you after class, unless you want me to tell everyone here, too.”

Shinji hesitates, nods, wrests his arm free of Asuka’s softening grip. His eyes dart to Rei- she’s gone back to staring out the window- and when they return to Asuka he finds she’s already returned to her seat.

The eyes of the class are divided between Asuka and Rei. Asuka, entrenched deeply in her thoughts, ignores them all and glares in Rei’s direction, watches her watching nothing. For a moment, she loses sight of Rei, and they aren’t in a classroom any longer but a hospital ward. It’s not a window any longer, but a one-way mirror that Asuka finds herself looking at. There’s nothing on the other side- there never is these days- but when she tears her gaze away, Rei is still watching the window with that empty expression. Asuka lowers her head upon her desk, hides her face behind her arms. “How did someone like you ever get to be a pilot?” she mutters, and in the back of her mind she hears the laughter that so often plagues her dreams. “You fucking doll.”

* * *

 

This marks the third time Asuka’s spoken to Rei, one on one, and again it’s been unproductive. Rei is beginning to think all the conversations they could possibly have will go like this. When Asuka is governed by her emotions, and she always is, their talks become greatly one-sided. What would it be like, Rei wonders, to live in such a way for the entirety of one’s life? To let emotions run so wild that they could serve as the answer to everything- it goes against everything she knows. Perhaps that’s the part that entices her, and not the emotions themselves: those, if anything, seem to be more trouble than they’re worth.

She’s been thinking like this ever since the last Angel. Last night she thought not of Ikari’s Scenario, as she always did, but of her thoughts upon the hill. What had she to fear? Nothing, she’d decided. Nothing that wouldn’t fade when Instrumentality was complete, but that she’d even considered fear implies a desire for something more, something to be felt, a defiance of her status quo. She has had no need for emotions; she never will.

Something must have changed during that battle to make Rei think like this. The answer is immediate and obvious, but it makes no sense. Asuka had served as the defense, rather than Rei- she said it was to even the score with Shinji- but Rei had been there, too. Why not assign Rei to the task of guarding them, why not assign herself to fire the rifle- she has the highest sync ratio of them all; why not let Shinji be safest at the bottom?

Asuka had protected her, along with Shinji. Asuka told her that she could not be replaced. She cares, Rei realizes, like the Commander and Shinji- but why? Rei had tried to make it clear when they first met that she wasn’t interested in interacting with Asuka if she hadn’t been ordered to. So again, why?

Rei lowers her head onto her arms, folded neatly atop her desk. She must be missing something, she thinks. There has to be something in their conversation from before that she’s overlooking, something that’ll prove that Asuka’s actions are born of nothing more than pity or disgust. She plays the conversation over and over in her mind until it becomes a droning, mixed with the monotonous voice of the teacher. She hasn’t missed anything; if anything, it’s clearer now that the Second Child has not yet given up on a friendship with the First.

* * *

 

A mile is meant to be run in eight minutes and walked in twelve. Asuka and Shinji average a mile in ten minutes, and by the time they get to Misato’s apartment the only thing Shinji wants to do is sink into the couch and try to get some rest. Asuka doesn’t allow this; she paces in front of the couch, demanding the Third Child’s attention as she rants.

“Then she said if she died she could be replaced, and I told her she’d better stop thinking like that. What kind of a mentality is that?!”

“She’s told me the same before,” Shinji points out.

“She doesn’t even care about her position!” says Asuka. “‘I can be replaced’ - what kind of crap is that? We’re _pilots_ , not spare parts!”

“Are you trying to imply they should take the designation from Rei and give it to you?” Shinji asks. “I don’t think that’ll happen even if you ask.”

“I’m not implying anything!” she snaps. “I’m _saying_ I want little Miss Perfect to take our job more seriously!”

“Asuka, you can’t expect things like that from us. We’re only children…”

“Children who’re saving the world- oh, why am I talking to you? You’re useless, too!” Asuka stamps her foot and storms from the room, leaving Shinji with the softness of the couch and a brief, blissful silence. It lasts for as long as it takes for Asuka to return to her room: the door slams, and the rumblings from behind it tell Shinji that Asuka won’t be calming down any time soon.

“Stupid, emotionless _doll_!” Asuka snaps, throwing her school bag against her chair. The chair topples easily, clattering against the floor. “Does nothing but follow orders from her _Commander_ , says she can be _replaced_ ; what, did he tell her that, too?” Asuka flings herself upon the bed; pillows fly away from her, only to be found by reaching fingers and pulled back in. “You don’t even feel, do you,” she asks, and the silence that answers her might as well have come from Rei. “You’re nothing like me!”

She isn’t, Asuka thinks. She doesn’t even know why the First Child pilots, aside from that she’s told to. There’s no pride in it for her, no thrill from combat, not even the joy of hearing praise from the Commander. At least Shinji, the most boring of them all, works for one of these things.

“So stupid,” Asuka whispers, and this one is directed at herself. The apartment outside is quiet- Shinji must still be on the couch, lying there. Her obligatory burst of anger is spent; now Asuka can do the same, gazing at the ceiling as her thoughts swarm around her. That’s how she hides what she feels, by concealing it in a storm of other emotions so strong as to overwhelm what she’s really trying to say. After Kyoko passed, it’s the only way she’s really managed to communicate, and it’s a failure.

The girl who feels too much, and the girl who doesn’t feel at all. Asuka thinks of the fairytales her stepmother told her, the one of Goldilocks and the Bears. That would make Shinji the boy who was just right. Which would make both of them failures- how’s that for some irony?

Asuka feels her chest beginning to ache, that creeping loneliness that comes whenever she’s like this- thinking by herself- wrapping around her. Yes, she’s popular at school, but there isn’t really anyone to talk to about things like these. Her problems will just go over Hikari’s head; she doesn’t want to rely on Shinji for anything more than she needs to.

In the end, Asuka’s more similar to Rei than she’d like to admit- she just would have to look a little harder. Asuka curls up against the pillows and the sheets, biting on her lip to fight the heat stinging her eyes. She’d sworn not to cry at Kyoko’s funeral, and it’s an oath she’s intent on keeping. That’s all she is, Asuka realizes- empty promises, feigned emotions, a smile painted on her face like that of a doll’s.

How sickening is that.


	2. Asteria

The sync tests are happening more frequently since Asuka arrived, but Rei supposes that’s to be expected. A new pilot means a period of integrating that can’t be rushed, though in this case it seems like Shinji is the one who benefits most from this.

“Your score is up by eight points, Shinji” Ritsuko says to the pilots gathered in the control room. She slides her finger down the sheet of paper next to her, scanning the readings. “Rei, yours hasn’t changed. Asuka, you’re up one point.”

“He’s still much lower than me!” Asuka says, crossing her arms across her chest. Shinji opens his mouth, words leaving in a rush too soft and indistinguishable for Rei to hear. Asuka retorts, her words jagged, as if they are the ones wounded rather than her pride. They’re bickering again. Asuka steps out from the line the pilots have formed, shouting at Shinji around Rei. Shinji retreats, backing towards, Rei notes, Misato’s desk. Misato rises, and Rei notices that today there’s two gold bars on her collar instead of one. A promotion, it would seem.

Misato moves to step between the two pilots, but it doesn’t appear necessary. “I’m leaving,” Asuka says, spinning on her heel effortlessly, like she’s practiced this move. It wouldn’t surprise Rei if she had.

The metal door slams, and Asuka is gone. Misato sighs and shakes her head. “You’re dismissed,” she says to the remaining two pilots. “Shinji, good job today.”

The Third Child nods and spins around, pushing the door with both hands and disappearing into the hall. Rei follows after him, but by the time she gets outside, he’s gone- he does that sometimes, Rei notes. He’ll be there, and then he won’t be. If only he could do that in Unit-01, she thinks, and moves on.

Asuka is in the next corridor over, heading for the female locker room. From where Rei stands she appears to be a blur of red, hair and plugsuit blending together in a mesh of color. Rei feels her throat tighten, her skin growing warm. Red, the color she hates. Why? She hates it because it reminds her of blood, she hates it because she associates red with Asuka, and Asuka with emotions-

Asuka stops near the end of the hall and passes through another door. Suddenly, the hall is devoid of red. The only specks of it would be Rei’s eyes, and Rei can’t see those. Yet she knows they’re there, much like Asuka is still around, just not within sight. Her skin is still warm.

This incarnation of Rei Ayanami hates red. Could that be changed, Rei wonders; would she want to? Overcoming this would mean a breaking of barriers, a desire to be closer if not to Asuka, then to the emotions she possesses. It’s no good, she decides. Barriers are created and put into place for a reason.

Rei advances towards the door, places a palm upon it. Beyond is Asuka; Rei imagines she might feel the emotions coming off her even before she steps through. Asuka has tried repeatedly to speak to her. Rei can only imagine the reason why: Asuka wants to approach her. If she persists, she’ll just have to learn that doing so is counterproductive. If it doesn’t aid the Scenario, then Rei doesn’t need to partake in it.

The door slides open under the pressure from Rei’s hand. The First Child walks through, feels the eyes of the Second upon her. Her skin senses the tension in the air, Asuka’s desire to speak.

She can try, but she won’t find a listener in Rei. Rei has already retreated into herself and sealed the way behind her.

* * *

The silence from the locker rooms follows Asuka outside, lingers in the train that she takes with Shinji to the surface, follows them out under the sun. It’s Shinji’s fault, Asuka thinks, his and Rei’s, and it’ll be a miracle if it’s an Angel that actually turns her insane and not the other two pilots she’s stuck with.

They meet up with Misato on the surface and climb into her car, and there the silence is drowned out by the humming of the engine and the wind coming through the open windows, but still no one speaks. Asuka feels like she should be thankful for this, this break in which no one has to speak, but it only reminds her of empty rooms and that odd way how people pause before addressing her, wondering how to talk to someone who’s graduated college at the age of thirteen.

Misato parks her car in the street, and together the three of them climb the stairs: Asuka in front, Misato behind her, and Shinji lagging on every landing. Finally, a change: Asuka can hear voices down the hall; as she draws closer to Misato’s apartment, it sounds like they’re coming from within. She doesn’t remember the TV being on when she and Shinji left for school that day, but maybe Misato turned it on and forgot about it.

Shinji sidles over, trying not to appear winded, just as Misato extracts her keys from her uniform pocket and slides them into the lock. The door swings inward at her touch. Behind her back, Asuka and Shinji exchange looks. _You locked it, right?_ Asuka mouths, and Shinji nods furiously. From inside: “Congratulations!”

Hikari, Toji, and Kensuke are seated at a table placed in the middle of the living room; Asuka looks from them to the door, and she gets it. “She forgot to lock the door,” she mutters to Shinji, shoving him through ahead of her so he doesn’t see the sour twisting of her mouth. How someone like Misato, who forgets everything except where she’s put her latest stash of beer, could get a promotion is beyond her. And to get a _party_ for that promotion, well-

“You didn’t have to do this,” Misato is saying from the living room.

“It wasn’t me. Kensuke did all the planning.”

“Well then, thank you.”

There’s a hiss and a crack: Misato’s gotten into the beer already. Asuka resists the urge to turn around and leave the apartment as she’d left the control box earlier in the day. She has nowhere to go; it’s too cold to stay outside for long, and staying at Hikari’s place isn’t an option tonight.

“Of course _you_ get a party,” Asuka mutters. Shinji, still standing where he’d ended up after Asuka shoved him, looks askance at her. “What’re you staring at?” she snaps, shooing him away with a flick of her hand. “You’re blocking the way!”

“Sorry.” Shinji steps to the side, clearing enough space in the hallway for Asuka to slip through. He looks as though he doesn’t want to enter either, or maybe he just doesn’t want to be around her.

“Get in there.” Asuka shoves Shinji again, and he staggers into the living room, somehow ending up seated next to Misato at the table. She’s gone too far, though; the eyes of her classmates have turned to the little part of her that protrudes from the shadows of the unlit hall, and now she has to join them, too.

“What’s with the long face, Soryu?” Toji asks, and Asuka wishes she could walk up to him and slug him in the face, call it even for the things he did when they’d met aboard _Over the Rainbow_.

“Mind your own business, Suzuhara.” Asuka catches an eyeful from Hikari, a glare that reads _stop or we’ll have to talk later_ , and suppresses the groan that’s already begun to slip between her clenched teeth.

“I didn’t know you got promoted to major, Misato,” Shinji says. Leave it to him and his dull self, Asuka thinks, to turn an awkward situation back into normal, boring conversation.

“Well, it’s nothing that big.” Misato waves a hand, takes a swig of beer from the can clasped in the other. “Nothing really changes in terms of what I have to do, I just have a few more people who have to listen to me now.”

“Is that really it?” Asuka says. No one hears her; she barely hears herself over the sound of knocking coming from the door. Asuka slips back towards it without prompting, taking the first excuse to back away from this makeshift party. She doesn’t really think about who might be there, or why they’d come at this time of night; it’s probably someone from NERV, come to get Misato.

She opens the door, and instinctively her dour expression becomes a wide, enthusiastic smile. “ _Kaji,_ ” she says, ignoring Ritsuko beside him. “You’re fashionably late.”

“There’s a party?” Kaji sounds amused, though it doesn’t quite show in his eyes: he looks like he might want to just go home, but obligation (or maybe Ritsuko) has dragged him here. “Don’t mind me, I’m just stopping by to congratulate Misato.”

“But you could _stay_.” Asuka can’t do what she normally does, that is, wrap her arms around Kaji’s waist and look up at him until he relents, but she can offer him a hint that he’s wanted here. She steps to the side, conveniently blocking Ritsuko’s way in, and gestures at the living room. “She’s in there.”

“It’s fine.” Kaji gestures, a weary rise and fall of fingertips. “I’ll just-”

“Is that Kaji?” Misato’s head pokes around the corner, eyeing the cluster of people in the doorway.

“And me,” adds Ritsuko.

“What are you two doing here?”

“We heard you got promoted,” Kaji says. “Well, Rits told me. We just wanted to congratulate you and see how you were doing.”

“Well, I’m doing fine.” Misato raises the can of beer, still in her hand. Asuka wonders if Misato’s ever going to let go of it, other than to grab another one. “Asuka, you can go and join the others.”

“But Kaji-”

“We’re not going to be staying. Ritsuko’s tired, and I’ve got to run some errands tomorrow.”

“But-”

Misato steps forward, her body blocking half of the doorway. That’s it, then, Asuka realizes. Kaji won’t be spending the night after all, nor can she keep him talking long enough so that he’ll have to. “Fine,” she says, and retreats from the hall. She stops just before the end, turning her head, and no one’s looking at her: all three of the adults are conversing with one another, and Kaji’s eyes are locked on Misato.

“Unbelievable,” Asuka whispers. “The two of them make me sick.”

“Asuka?” Shinji’s gotten up from his seat; his shadow blocks the light coming from the living room. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, just Kaji and Akagi.” Asuka tries to look past Shinji, but even with him in the way she can get a clear picture of what’s going on. With Toji and Kensuke here, this party will be going for a while, and there’s no way Asuka intends to sit with them and fake a smile for hours. “I’m going to bed,” she says.

“Don’t you want to-”

“I _want_ to go to _sleep!_ ” Asuka brushes past Shinji, placing her hand on his shoulder and pushing him into the wall. She walks through the living room without looking at the others, ignores Hikari’s call and just barely resists slamming the door to her room. She can’t let the others know something’s wrong, after all.

She stands there for a moment in the little bubble of clear space on the floor, where the clutter of clothes and her other belongings hasn’t yet invaded. Moonlight comes through the window, illuminating the bed and the dust motes hanging in the air. In here, it’s still, and only the chattering from outside keeps silence from permeating the space. Asuka wishes they would shut up, but they won’t; nothing has gone Asuka’s way since she came to Japan, and she doesn’t see why things suddenly would.

They should’ve stayed in Germany, herself and Kaji. There’d be no Misato there, no Shinji or Rei. It would’ve been the two of them- maybe he would return her advances then? Or, no- she’d still be the same girl, fumbling with the heavy mantle of adulthood that she’s not quite ready for, offering a body that’s not as mature as Asuka says she is. She’s complained that everything she’s tried in Japan has failed- her attempt at befriending the First Child, her battles with the Angels- but things would be worse had she stayed.

Somehow her world has been bettered by the Commander’s puppet and barely competent son. She’s stuck with them, now. Asuka kicks off her shoes and leaps onto her bed, hears the springs creak in agony beneath her. At least here she has some weight, and her presence is recognized. Asuka grabs a pillow, wraps her hands around the sides and squeezes, imagining it’s an Angel that she’s choking the life out of. The next time she fights one, Asuka decides, she’ll do that: kill it with her hands, with no one helping her. Then she’ll be praised; then Kaji will notice her, and then she won’t need to try and talk to the First anymore. She’ll have everything that her heart (confused, misguided) desires, and if a dead Angel isn’t worth that, then nothing is.

* * *

From the moment she wakes up, Rei knows today will not be one of those quiet, restful days. Her portion of the city is silent, as it always is, but something hangs in the air over it, a heavy feeling that weighs upon her body and settles in her gut. Rei slides from her bed, walks slowly out the front door and onto the balcony overlooking the center atrium. Today, it’s still: no singing birds, no swaying of drifting earth-bound leaves. In the distance, she can hear the opening and closing of car doors. Section 2, she thinks. Today, someone has need of Rei Ayanami.

Rei stands with her hands clasped on the metal guard rail, gazing down. She should go down to meet the men from Section 2. It might be urgent. Rei turns, eyes the mobile phone visible on the night stand beside her bed. No one called her. She remembers now that the Commander is gone; he’s out of the country, working towards the advancement of his plan. The tension in her stomach twists strangely. The Commander might not know what’s happening here in Tokyo-3. A sudden thought: if this is an Angel, and if she dies fighting it, will Akagi replace her without a word, or would she tell the Commander? Is this, somehow, a shortcut to the end that she’s been promised?

Section 2 has not yet entered the building. Rei doesn’t hear their voices, their heavy tread upon cracked and broken tiles. She retreats into her room, goes over to her drawer. Her phone is still dark, showing 0 messages. Beside it are Gendo’s glasses, and today it seems to Rei like they’re watching her. She drapes an old, bloodied bandage over them, hiding the lenses. The roaring of blood in her ears dissipates as the glasses vanish from sight.

Rei turns her back on the lump of bandages, walks over to the sink. She turns it on, plunging cupped hands beneath the stream until a trembling pool of water has gathered between them. Rei presses it to her face, stray droplets clinging to her hair and the neck of her uniform. Today, this Rei Ayanami is ready to die. She imagines, if she could feel, that she might look forward to it. Even if the Commander is gone, though, there’ll be Shinji who will try to defend her. She thinks again of the previous Angel, and the tightness in her stomach contracts again. Shinji’ might not be alone in trying to protect her. Asuka might, too: Rei can see her doing this.

She shuts the sink off, stays hunched over it with water dripping from her skin. That feeling in her stomach has spread throughout her body, pressing down on her. A part of her longs to submit to it and simply stay like this until someone comes and finds her, be it Section 2 or the Angel she knows must be coming. She can’t, though. Rei Ayanami is meant to fight Angels, and so she will. Rei pushes off from the sink counter, walks on shaky legs to the door. Section 2 is waiting downstairs. As Rei boards the elevator to go to them, she finds herself hoping that the Angel will find her now, if that’s what it intends to do, while Shinji and Asuka aren’t around to interfere.

* * *

Rei hears the aircraft far before she hears the sirens that they’re drowning out. They fly in swarms overhead away from the center of the city; a similar stream of cars travels in the same direction, a backlog of traffic that persists for the duration of the drive to NERV.

Section 2 drops her off at one of the train entrances. Rei takes one by herself down to the Geofront. Commander Ikari isn’t here; she hasn’t been given any information yet about what kind of Angel this is, and yet here she is, waiting to fight it. Rei closes her eyes and leans back, resting her head against the windowpane. The odds of her survival appear increasingly low.

She wonders what might happen after, how Shinji and Asuka would react. Shinji would be saddened, that’s obvious. Asuka, though- Rei isn’t sure. She thinks Asuka might shout until her voice ran out- it seems in her nature- but why or about what, she doesn’t know. It’s just something that could be expected of Asuka. Such an emotional explosion- Rei thinks she might wish to observe that as much as she would want to avoid it. She shakes her head, directing her thoughts elsewhere. The paradoxical nature of Asuka isn’t something she should be considering when there’s an Angel to be fought.

There’s someone posted in the train station to meet Rei; he tells her to go to Misato in the central office, and then he runs off to join the panicked jumble of bodies in the service corridors. Rei goes the opposite way, keeping a steady pace as she walks along the side of the hall, avoiding the personnel that come rushing through in both directions. Urgency spills off them, splashes against Rei; all of it fails to perturb her. Even if the Angel were to come crashing into the headquarters this instant, Rei doesn’t think she’d be bothered by it. She sees no reason in that: whatever happens, Commander Ikari’s plan will persist. There is no reality that Rei’s considered in which his plan fails.

Rei finds her way to an elevator, boards it and goes up towards Ikari’s office. Something about going there to meet Misato rather than the Commander feels off, like a misplaced note in an otherwise perfect symphony. She tries not to let it bother her- she doesn’t know why it even does- but it nags at her from beneath her skin up until the moment she pushes in the door, expecting to see only Misato.

Asuka and Shinji are there too, waiting for her. They glance at the door as it opens, though the look Asuka gives her feels as though it lasts for many seconds longer. Asuka opens her mouth as Rei approaches, but what words she might have spoken are lost in the sound of Misato’s voice. “You’re here,” she says. “Good. We’ll start the briefing now.

Rei moves over to the center of the room, taking up a position next to Asuka on the transparent floor. Misato shifts in place, locking her arms at her sides, as if she’s reminding herself that she’s supposed to be acting professional. “The Angel was detected in orbit a few hours ago,” she says. “It’s been dropping parts of its mass from orbit. So far they’ve all landed in the ocean, but each strike is getting closer to our location. We can safely assume that once it’s directly over us, it will be dropping itself on top of us. The impact will destroy the city, a large radius around it, and cause the Angel to breach the Geofront.” Misato sucks in a breath of air, closing her eyes. Her inexperience with a command position shows here: her initial reaction is to not look at her pilots as she delivers the information. She wrenches her eyes open with an effort, but Rei notices she’s staring over Asuka’s right shoulder rather than at her. “So you’ll be catching the Angel using your EVA’s A.T. Fields. Once you’ve stopped it, you’ll kill it so it won’t have a second chance.”

“Catch it?” Asuka looks down, squeezing one hand into a fist. “With our _hands?_ ”

“Yes. We’ll be positioning the Evangelions to cover the predicted impact radius.”

“What if the Angel goes somewhere else, though?” asks Shinji. “What if it hits us with the edge of its body instead of the center?”

“Then it’s all over.”

“What if our EVAs can’t handle it?” says Asuka.

“Again, it’ll all be over.”

“And the chances of us succeeding are…”

“We have no idea,” Misato says. She sounds, Rei thinks, far too cheerful for someone who’s just ordered three children into what’s essentially a half-planned, more than likely suicide mission. Then again, they aren’t children- they’re pilots, no matter what their designations may say. They are pilots first, and children second.

“If this works, it’ll be a fucking miracle,” Asuka mutters through clenched teeth.

“It’s only a miracle if it happens.”

“So what you’re saying is we have to pull this off somehow.” Asuka glares at Misato; when the older woman fails to yield, Asuka shakes her head and glares at the floor, like doing this will somehow cause the Geofront to move and take them out of the Angel’s path.

“In an operation like this, there’s no other way.”

“You’re calling something like _this_ an operation?!”

“You’re right. It isn’t really an operation with a situation like this.” Misato’s shoulders lift, a slight shrug. “If you don’t want to do this, you can refuse.”

It seems as though Misato should say more, but she doesn’t. Outside the office there are shouts, the sound of running feet. Rei stands rigid, motionless, and Asuka with her, and Shinji with them both. Misato nods, accepting this as their answer. “Are you ready?” she asks. None of the pilots move. They are, in this moment, as united as they’ll ever be. It’s different things that hold them still- for Shinji, the fear of death; for Asuka, the threat of failure; for Rei, her sense of duty- but none of them are leaving. “You’re required to write a will before you go.”

“I don’t need one.” Asuka shifts her weight forward, taking a single step, a challenge. “I’m not going to die.”

“I do not need to, either,” Rei murmurs. Her lips barely part to let the words pass. “It is unnecessary.”

“Then I won’t, either,” says Shinji.

“How unfortunate.” Misato’s eyes drop, and oddly enough it’s her who’s showing the first signs of doubt in the success of their operation. “When this is over, I’ll treat you all to a steak dinner. How’s that?”

“Really?” Another step forward from Asuka. Rei turns her head enough so that she might observe Asuka with both eyes. The Second Child appears enthusiastic, but the clenching of her fists and the energy that’s built up in her knees betrays what she must really think. For once the infallible fortress of Asuka’s confidence is showing a fault, though of everyone in the room, only Rei can see it.

“I promise,” says Misato. “So look forward to it!”

She turns and leaves the room, presumably heading back to the command center. Almost immediately Asuka and Shinji’s faces fall, and they stare at the door, bewildered. “Does she really think we’d like steak?” asks Shinji.

“Guess so. Kind of pathetic, isn’t it?” says Asuka. “Oh, well. If it’s dinner she’s treating us to, we might as well pick somewhere nice. Hey!” She knocks her elbow against Rei’s, and Rei draws back, glaring at her. “You’re coming with us this time. I’ll drag you if I have to.”

“I will not.” Rei looks away, decides to stare at the far wall, just so she won’t have to look at Asuka.

“And why’s that?” Asuka asks. Rei resists the urge to grind her teeth together- that’d just be giving Asuka what she wants, a reaction. She’ll give Asuka the truth, and nothing more.

“I hate meat.”

Again- “Why?”

There are more people running by in the hallway outside. Asuka watches Rei intently, like she’s more interested in Rei’s answer than the looming threat of being crushed by an Angel. Over the loudspeaker: “Pilots, report to the dressing rooms. EVAs launch in twenty minutes.”

“I guess we should go,” Shinji says.

“You _guess?_ ” Asuka snaps, rounding on him. Over her shoulder, Shinji locks eyes with Rei, and she understands: he’ll divert Asuka's attention away from Rei if it means keeping the peace, so they won't have an argument hanging over them right before the mission. “Do less guessing and more moving!”

Shinji leaves the office, hounded by Asuka, who follows him all the way out into the hall. Rei is left standing there, forgotten, the echoes of battle preparations surrounding her. Already she can feel herself falling into the familiar pattern that precedes a fight: she’s ready for the end, should it come for her this time. Rei looks down through the glass panel flooring, observing the trees and the Geofront below. She’d told Asuka she hates meat. She does- she’s never eaten it- but she doesn’t recall why. It’s one of those things she just knows, like she knows she hates the color red. Meat is red- maybe that’s the reason why. Rei’s never considered that before.

* * *

Asuka has already left the locker rooms by the time Rei arrives. Here, of all the places in NERV, it is silent: no one except pilots comes here unless something is wrong. Rei pulls her plugsuit from the locker and holds it out in front of her. In spite of everything- the injuries she’s sustained, the broken and fractured bones- the plugsuit has managed to stay in one piece. If only they could make pilots out of whatever they used for plugsuits, Rei thinks, so they wouldn’t be as fragile.

Rei strips down and climbs into the plugsuit. It hisses as it tightens around her, becoming a second skin, and even though she’s long since healed, Rei feels it pressing down where the breaks in her arm were, on the faded bruises that dotted her body. Injuries like that won’t happen again. She has Asuka and Shinji beside her. They will help her- but no, that’s not how it should go. She’s supposed to be the one protecting them, she thinks. The memory of pain slides like a knife between her ribs, stabbing at her lungs. Rei leans against the lockers, both arms pressed against the steel to support herself. She can’t do something like that, like taking the blast from an Angel, again. Her body shudders; it remembers, even if Rei tries not to, the feeling of the LCL around her heating up, the distinct possibility that she might die being boiled alive.

A hard breath shudders through Rei’s lips, bringing her back to the present. Shinji and Asuka must have made it to the lifts by now. They’ll be waiting there. Her duty calls her. Rei straightens herself, swaying slightly. She’ll go to them, she’ll protect them, as she promised Shinji she would. The Commander’s directive is a distant second thought. His plan will advance regardless of what happens. If Rei Ayanami is so easily replaced as she’s been led to believe, it shouldn’t matter what this one does. Besides, if the Commander isn’t here, he won’t ever know.

* * *

No one says a word as Rei approaches the other two pilots waiting by the lift. It’s a bit of a surprise to Rei that Asuka doesn’t comment on her lateness. Asuka stands instead by the lift doors, eyes closed and arms crossed over her chest. Shinji hits the call button as Rei walks up, and half a minute later the lift arrives, doors opening to allow access to the metal cage. Asuka enters first, retreating to the far wall and resuming her impression of a statue; Shinji and Rei stand near the center, watching as the doors close and the lift continues on.

They come out of the blackness of the elevator shafts and to the edge of the hangar bay, where the three EVAs sit locked in their restraints. Asuka stops leaning against the corner and walks over to the others, though she doesn’t look either in the eye. Instead she watches the EVAs as the lift ascends to their level, slowing once it nears the top.

Asuka is the first to exit the lift. She stops just outside it and places a hand on the door, preventing it from closing. Her eyes sweep first to Shinji, then to Rei, surveying them with an intensity that Rei’s never felt from anyone before, not even the Commander. “If you die during this, I won’t ever forgive you,” she snaps. Then, before Shinji has even opened his mouth, she’s gone.

Rei and Shinji step out of the lift after her, watch as the doors close behind them and the lift goes back down. Even then, they don’t go to their EVAs just yet. Rei moves so she’s in front of Shinji, not quite blocking him, but he’ll have to move around her to get past. “What did the Second mean?” she asks.

“What Asuka said?” Shinji shrugs, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I guess it means she’s nervous about doing this, too. Are you nervous, Ayanami?”

Rei lowers her chin, stares down at her hands, envisioning the bandages that had surrounded them the first time she’d met Shinji. She imagines dying would feel something like that- unbearably painful, but at least it would have an end. “No,” she says at last. “I do not feel anything.”

“That must be nice,” Shinji says. “Not being nervous.”

He’s misinterpreted her words, as Rei expected he would, but perhaps that’s for the best. More than anything, it’s comforting: even in times like these, there are some things about Shinji that just don’t change. “We must go to our EVAs,” Rei says. No doubt Asuka’s already entered hers and is ranting about how slow the others are. “I believe the Angel is coming soon.”

“I guess. Good luck, Ayanami.”

Shinji heads towards Unit-01, jogging at a pace that Asuka would scornfully call a walk. Rei doesn’t move yet. Her EVA is closest, so she can afford a brief moment for herself. She goes back over to the lift and leans against the wall, closing her eyes much like Asuka did. She can feel the whirring of lift machinery behind her and the beating of her heart, but none of this explains why Asuka was doing what she did. Rei is about to write it off as another eccentricity of the Second Child’s when feels a stirring in her stomach, a quickening of her blood and a vague sense of apprehension. She’s found, if not what Asuka was doing, then the sense of dread that Asuka was attempting to stave off, and that isn’t what Rei was looking for at all.

* * *

There’s been nothing but incessant chatter on the communication lines since the three EVAs left NERV to take their places around the city of Tokyo-3. It’s a strange feeling, Rei thinks, to know that there are two other EVAs somewhere, and yet not be able to see them. They’re without backup, and it defies everything Rei’s been trained to expect. Misato’s commanding, though- some oddities are to be expected.

In truth, everything about this is off. There’s nothing that makes sense about trying to catch an Angel that’s falling from orbit, if it even decides to come down in one piece. It feels like a day that might actually be a dream, only in Rei’s dreams she doesn’t have to deal with weights in her stomach or tension bundled near her neck.

The steady stream of noise that Rei’s grown used to tuning out tapers off suddenly. Now there’s only static and the too-loud sound of the Evangelion humming. Rei reaches for the control sticks, wraps her hands around them cautiously. The Angel must be close, if not already here. “EVA Units, proceed to ready position,” Misato says.

Rei adjusts her EVA so it’s braced against the ground like a runner prepared for a race. Misato’s voice tells them that the Magi will be providing the Angel’s trajectory, but only estimates: there’s something keeping the computers from making more precise calculations. The rest, they’ll have to eyeball. Rei tenses, already imagining what Asuka will say should they fail. Something about being an EVA pilot and needing glasses- and then she remembers that if they fail, Asuka won’t be criticizing anything.

There’s a shout, distant, that sounds as though it may have come from behind Misato: “The Angel is within 20000 meters of the surface!”

“Let’s go, I guess,” Shinji says, and then there’s silence. For a moment Rei finds herself expecting thundering footfalls, some audible proof that Shinji is off running, or that Asuka is. They’re too far apart for any of that, though- Rei will have to be content with whatever sounds her EVA makes. She disengages her EVA’s power cord and begins to run, leaping over trees and power lines, but her EVA feels far too slow. The heaviness she’d felt before has returned, only this time it seems to be weighing down her EVA rather than herself.

“Twelve thousand!”

“I’ve got it!” Shinji shouts. Rei looks down, sees the blip of his EVA beginning to slow down on the radar screen. Asuka’s blip turns to converge on this new point. “A.T. Field to maximum!”

Rei leaps over another row of houses, and finally Shinji’s EVA comes into view. He’s made contact with the Angel already atop a hill, a lone purple figure struggling to hold back what appears to be an enormous winged eye. She watches his EVA sink into the earth, knees threatening to buckle as a spray of fluid emerges from its arms. The weight in her stomach vanishes, replaced by that dread she’d felt by the lift doors, as it occurs to Rei that she might not make it in time. She’ll have to watch Unit-01 be crushed down, Shinji trapped inside-

Her eyes dart to the radar, and she notices Unit-02 is within range. Perhaps Asuka can reach him in time, bolster Unit-01’s flagging A.T. Field long enough for Rei to join them. “Unit-02, set A.T. Field to maximum,” she says, and there’s a hardness to her voice, reminiscent of Asuka’s, that she’s never heard from herself before.

“I know!” Unit-02 streaks up the hillside, A.T. Field already expanding. Opposite it, Unit-00 also ascends, and a spark of blue light streaks over the nearby houses as their A.T. Fields merge together.

“Rei, your knife!”

Before Shinji’s finished speaking, Rei is already reaching for her prog knife, extending it up to stab at the Angel’s A.T. Field. She splits it easily, and as she pulls the halves of it apart, she hears Asuka shouting behind her. “Take this!”

The red arms of Unit-02 shoot past the face of Unit-00, planting a knife directly into the Angel’s eye. As it connects, Rei feels her stomach twist, a distinctly unpleasant feeling like the one she’d had when she first saw the Ninth Angel-

And then the Tenth explodes into a column of light. Unit-00’s feet dig into the earth, but it’s being blown away far too quickly; the EVA topples backward as the LCL around her begins to heat up. Rei lurches forward in her seat, yanking at the control sticks. Unit-00 fails to respond, but its backward progress stops. There’s something holding it up- another EVA- she can’t tell whether it’s Unit-01 or Unit-02. The LCL now is far too hot, and Rei finds her eyes drawn to the hatch, as if looking at it and thinking of escaping will somehow alleviate the heat.

Something else impacts against the other side of Unit-00: the remaining EVA. Another moment, and the explosion passes, leaving behind a crater the size of its body and a flattened mess of debris that extends for miles around. Unit-01 stands in front of Unit-00, purple paint flaking away and revealing glowing orange metal beneath it. As Rei watches, Unit-01 lifts a hand and produces a thumbs-up before slouching over, having run out of power.

A beeping noise announces that Unit-00 has also run its battery dry. It slowly begins to fall to its side, but doesn’t impact on the heated crater soil. Unit-02 has fallen onto its back and now lies facing the sky, supporting Unit-00 with upraised arms.

* * *

When the pilots have been extracted and debriefed alongside Misato, they get on a train and join the mass of people returning from the evacuation. Asuka manages, somehow, to get four adjacent seats for them despite the crush of people. Rei takes a seat at the end next to Shinji, the furthest one from Asuka. She doesn’t need to know what Asuka says to Misato, or where they’re going; she only knows she’s coming along because Asuka promised she wouldn’t have to eat meat, and Shinji had asked her to come with them.

Rei remembers the smiles on Asuka and Shinji’s faces as they climbed from their EVAs, the ones that lingered as they were debriefed and even now still can be seen. Fighting the Angels is their duty, and yet Asuka and Shinji celebrate the defeat of each one with a joy that puzzles her. Is it so much to expect from them, she wonders, that each victory is something to be savored rather than expected? If that’s true, then it would say something about their confidence in their piloting ability. Exactly what it says, Rei doesn’t bother trying to answer. It isn’t her problem to worry about, nor should she bother with a happiness that doesn’t belong to her.

It lingers though, this feeling, It burns inside her, an ember that refuses to be extinguished, that demands to be nurtured. Such emotions, Rei knows, will only deter her from the Commander’s plan, but if such a plan can be carried out with a replaceable part, then the act of replacing it shouldn’t jeopardize the plan at all. Rei surveys the faces around her, watching for members of Section 2. More likely than not, this train is carrying none: there are far too many civilians trying to come home from the evacuation. Rei lowers her head, hair drooping to cover her face, and smiles as Shinji once taught her to do. The ember in her stomach dies down a little, a simmering now, rather than a burning.

“Hey, Wonder Girl! Are you asleep, or something?” A hand swoops down, fastening around Rei’s wrist. Asuka tugs on her, pulling her towards the train doors. “This is our stop. Come on!”

“Where are we going, Asuka?” Rei hears Shinji say.

“Just follow me. I know exactly what I’m doing!”

The procession of four winds between apartments and through narrow streets. Asuka doesn’t stop to check her bearings or consult a map, something Rei finds odd. Either she’s had this planned for far longer than she lets on, or she’s bluffing her way through this.

At last Asuka stops in front of a small, lit shop. A lantern beside it marks it as a ramen stand, much to Rei’s confusion. “I know your wallet’s tight, Misato, and Wonder Girl here doesn’t like meat, so I thought ramen would work! Well, go order!”

Rei feels a hand pressing into the small of her back. She staggers up to the counter, saying, “I will have garlic ramen without pork.”

“I’m getting a shark fin with pork,” Asuka declares. “A large.” She plops herself onto the seat beside Rei’s as Shinji mumbles his order and takes the seat beside hers.

“Today wasn’t all that bad, was it?” says Shinji. “All things considered.”

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” asks Asuka.

“Well… my father said I did a good job earlier. That makes everything we did worth it, right?”

“If that’s all it takes for things to be worth it to you, you really have low standards.” Asuka grabs her chopsticks as a bowl of ramen is set in front of her, still steaming. “What about you, Wonder Girl?”

“I am a pilot,” Rei murmurs, staring down into her own bowl of ramen. “It is simply my job.”

“Just your job? You’re just as bad as he is!” Asuka scowls and digs into her ramen, shoveling noodles into her mouth as if to stifle whatever it is she wishes she could say to Rei and Shinji.

Rei picks up her chopsticks and lifts some noodles before her, watches the steam waft off them. It’s true that piloting is her job, as it is Asuka’s and Shinji’s, but it is also her purpose. The others- what would their purposes be? Shinji has already stated his. That leaves Asuka, and Asuka’s purpose is obvious: she pilots for recognition. Her record- eight years of outstanding service at NERV Berlin- confirms this. Rei wonders if Asuka’s ever stopped to think of what she’d do after this was over, or if it’s ever crossed her mind.

If they are anything alike, Asuka’s never thought of the _after_. That’s where they’re different: they’re children who were sculpted into pilots, but where Rei knows there will be an end, there is only an ambiguous future waiting for Asuka. For a moment, Rei wants to lean over and tell her what is to come: Instrumentality, everything, just to see that smugness fade from Asuka’s face. She won’t, though. She’ll keep Ikari’s plan to herself, as she’s been mandated. Asuka will not be aware of the end approaching, and maybe that’s a mercy.

Rei looks over at Asuka, watches her dip her chopsticks into her ramen and fish out a bite of pork to go with the noodles she's just eaten. Rei isn't going to analyze the way Asuka eats; that's just ridiculous, pretentious even, but even this simple act is telling. Asuka isn't entirely satisfied for some reason. She lifts her head, eyes darting from Misato to Shinji, and by the time they reach Rei she's already returned to her meal, pushing a strand of ramen around the edge of the bowl.

They finish eating, not speaking to each other after Asuka’s little rant. Misato settles the bill, and the four of them walk back out into the cold night air. Rei feels the warmth of the ramen she’s eaten hanging about her body, though it quickly begins to fade the longer they stay outside.

When they reach the train station, Misato turns and looks at Rei. “You live in the other direction, don’t you?” she asks, and receives a nod in turn. “Will you be alright going home by yourself?”

“I will,” Rei answers. “Thank you for dinner, Major Katsuragi.”

“It was nothing.” A train pulls up, the one that Misato and the others will have to take. “We’ll see you later this week for your sync test, yes?”

“Correct.”

Misato herds Shinji and Asuka aboard the train. Shinji offers Rei a wave as the doors slide shut; Asuka merely turns her head to the side. The train pulls out of the station and the others are whisked away, leaving behind a wake of chilling wind. It knocks against Rei, and she can’t help but shiver. The next train, the one she’ll have to take, is only two minutes away. As Rei stands there on the train platform, the lights casting her small shadow around her in a halo, she feels as though these two minutes stretch longer than all the time she’d spent with the others today.


	3. Mnemosyne

An Angel had attacked while the Commander was away. It was in no way normal, and yet the Commander is acting like everything is exactly that. To the rational part of Rei’s mind, it makes sense. There’s no need to deviate from his usual behavior if the Angel was defeated, as it was supposed to be. Still, there’s this sense of disappointment that lingers within her, what one might call bitterness, that the Commander hasn’t called Rei to see him yet.

He hasn’t contacted her at all. There’s a sync test scheduled today, but Rei’s phone remains dark and silent. Again, he sends Section 2 to get her, and when they’ve dropped her off in front of the train station, all that Rei does for a while is stand there, staring at the open doors and the people passing through them. Here’s a new feeling, one that Rei doesn’t have a name for, the urge to go and join them and pray they’ll take her in. Anything is better than this distance she feels, as though she’s in a world all her own even when she’s standing right beside someone.

Rei boards a train heading down into the Geofront. The afternoon air is warm and humid, and though it isn’t quite in Rei’s nature to feel uncomfortable, she loathes the way her clothes stick to her skin and the sheen of sweat that forms across the back of her neck. Today is probably going to end up being one of _those_ days, complete with Asuka yelling and something breaking. It’ll likely be either the air conditioning at NERV or the elevators- again, it’s just the thing to expect.

There’s no one around when Rei arrives, but the halls aren’t quite quiet, either. The ambient hum of machinery and pipes behind walls tingles at the base of her neck, and the low buzz of voices carries through the facility. There’s a sense of life to it all that permeates the structure; she knows it’s there, but somehow it does not touch her. If anything, it avoids her, and maybe that’s why wherever she goes is mostly empty, why no one save for the Commander ever contacts her.

As she enters the locker room, Rei runs into the Second Child, quite literally. Asuka’s the taller of them both, and she knocks Rei back a pace, simply from the speed of her walking. Asuka doesn’t even register the bumping of their bodies, just places her hands on her hips and glares at Rei. She’s chosen to read this as a challenge, as she does with everything else. This isn’t an accident; Rei is testing her, and Asuka responds by planting her feet in their places and folding her arms over her chest.

Their impasse lasts a little longer than a moment. Rei shuffles to the side, clearing just enough space for Asuka to move around without touching her. Asuka scoffs and sweeps past, and she’s close enough that if Rei would only shift her weight she might brush up against Asuka, but even at such proximity she feels no different. There’s no rush of energy beneath her skin, as Rei had hoped there might be; Asuka turns the corner, and with a toss of her red hair, she vanishes.

As she did at the entrance to the Geofront, Rei stands there and observes the place she last saw Asuka, red eyes boring into empty air and the steel paneling behind it. She wonders, vainly, if by doing this she’ll somehow call Asuka back, or if not that, unlock whatever secret that everyone else seems to understand, that will let Rei join this connected world around her.

* * *

 

“What do you mean you want us to undress?” Asuka shrieks, glaring at the speaker in the upper corner of the room. If Asuka shouts any louder, she’ll end up breaking it, somehow, and the quota of items to be broken will be met. “There’s no way I’m walking out there naked!”

“It’s just for the autopilot test, Asuka,” Misato sighs. From behind her there comes a rustling noise, either the sound of her jacket, or perhaps Doctor Akagi scoffing. “We’ll turn off the security cameras when you walk through to the entry plugs, how’s that. No one will be watching.”

“Shinji’s right next to me!”

“I can cover my eyes,” Shinji mumbles. “Or go in after you two.”

“Whose idea was this, anyway?! We don’t need an autopilot! We can pilot fine on our own!”

“It’s just a precaution, Asuka. The longer we argue about this, the longer you’ll have to be kept here.”

“Fine!” snaps Asuka. “I’ll go, but if Shinji looks, I’m going to-”

“Just get going, Asuka.”

The locks on the decontamination chamber release, doors swinging open towards the bright, sterilized hallway that leads to the entry plugs. Asuka shuffles forward, standing just outside her stall, and glares at the others. “Well?” she demands. “Aren’t you two coming?”

Rei steps out from her chamber, walking resolutely towards the end of the hall. Asuka’s being difficult again, in her usual paradoxical sense. Her usual bragging about her body to her friends in the classroom- the girls she calls her friends, anyway- means nothing when she’s near Shinji. The terms under which Asuka chooses to flaunt herself must be _hers_ , or else she’ll fight against them with the same anger that she takes on the Angels with.

As Rei passes by, their eyes lock. Asuka looks as though she’d like to say something to her, or maybe just lunge across the hall and hit Rei for staring at her, as she would do to Shinji. Instead, it’s Asuka who breaks eye contact first, pivoting on her heel and running down the length of the hall. She’s vanished before Rei can make it more than a couple of steps.

Behind her, a shuffling. “Is she gone?” asks Shinji. “Can I open my eyes?”

“Yes. You may,” Rei answers. She diverts her gaze to the end of the hall, to the corner where she’d last seen Asuka. “I do not understand the Second’s behavior.”

“Who does?” mutters Shinji. “Why do you call her that all the time, anyway? Second?”

“That is who she is. The Second Child.”

“Why don’t you call me Third, then?”

“Because that is not who you are.”

“I don’t understand.”

Shinji stares at Rei expectantly, waiting for her to explain. Rei looks away, gazing towards the end of the hall and the test bodies beyond. She’s said everything she could, already. The rest must be left for Shinji to make sense of.

“Shinji, Rei.” Doctor Akagi’s voice echoes in the lull in their conversation. “Asuka’s already in her entry plug. You need to get moving.”

“The camera was on?” Shinji mumbles. He’s not surprised by this at all. He’s grown used to this already, the failure of NERV to follow any instructions that involve breaking protocol. “Come on,” he says, and walks away. Rei tails after him, eyes taking in everything as a blur: the tan of Shinji’s back as she follows him, the overwhelming brightness from the ceiling lights.

They part, as they always do, at the catwalks leading to the entry plugs. Rei climbs into hers, and it feels for the first time today like things will be normal, like the world is as it should be. Like the Commander has a need for her. She’s here because he needs her for this test, right?

“All pilots are ready for entry.” Doctor Akagi’s voice sounds as though it could be an automated announcement: level, impersonal. “Beginning the test.”

With a grating sound, the simulation plugs make their way into the dummy Evangelion bodies. Doubles, Rei thinks, just like her, only these doubles aren’t really being used. Once the autopilot is done, there won’t be any need for these aside from occasional troubleshooting. Would her fate lead somewhere similar? No, decides Rei, it isn’t possible. She will take the Commander to Instrumentality-

And there is no afterward. The Commander’s never indicated he had a plan for anything beyond Instrumentality, and there’s a simple explanation for this. The _after_ does not include Rei Ayanami.

“Initiate recording for autopilot.”

It won’t end like that, Rei tells herself. There must be a place in this future the Commander’s envisioned for her; it won’t end, as she fears, with her own disposal-

“Rei, I’m seeing an anomaly in your readings. Is everything alright?”

“I am fine, Doctor Akagi.” A lie. She wonders if the others can sense it, if the autopilot will pick up on it, if in her worries she’s unintentionally glitched the system so that she’ll still be considered useful. “Is the anomaly still present?”

“No, it’s gone now. If anything else seems wrong, let us know, Rei.”

“Yes, Doctor,” she says, and forces her mind to be silent. Again, that humming, this time coming from the entry plug and the simulation body around it. She wonders if the same life that fills the halls of NERV could possibly be found here as well.

A new sensation creeps up Rei’s spine, unnervingly familiar. It’s that twisting in her gut that she’d felt before, though she can’t quite place when. She feels as though she might want to be sick. “Doctor Akagi?” she murmurs.

“Hang on,” comes the doctor’s clipped reply. “We’re dealing with something.”

“Yes.”

She can hear shouting in the moment before the channel cuts out, the pinging of alarms. There is no visual display in the simulation body, but Rei doesn’t need one to sense that something’s gone wrong, and that feeling that’s nagged at her the entire day is suddenly justified.

“What’s going on?” she hears Shinji say, his voice warped by the failing communication lines. “Rei? Asuka?”

“Don’t ask me! Do I look like I know what-”

In the middle of Asuka’s sentence, the line goes dead. From the lack any frantic reaction by Shinji, she guesses that it’s her simulation body that’s failed, and not one of theirs. Contacting the Pribnow box where the others are is now out of the question, but surely they’ll notice Rei’s silence and try to raise a line.

“-try and eject?” That’s Shinji’s voice; he’s still talking, so it’s definitely Rei’s simulation body that’s malfunctioning.

“Ikari,” Rei says. “Tell Akagi there is something wrong.”

“What’s happening?”

“There is-”

At that moment, she feels a sharp pressure in her arm, like something has clamped down on it and begun to squeeze it off. She can’t stop herself from pulling back on the control sticks, nor the cry of pain that escapes her.

“Rei?!” calls Shinji. “Rei, what’s wr-”

Shinji’s voice fades into static; beneath that, the hum of the simulation body falls silent. The entry plug lurches slightly, swaying from side to side. The body is somehow moving, despite Rei’s lack of orders. “Angel,” she whispers, eyes darting to the escape hatch. If she should open it now, she would drown: the water outside isn’t oxygenated, and besides, the Angel might be out there. “Doctor Akagi?” she says, knowing that her transmission won’t go through but hoping otherwise, “Eject the entry plugs. Doctor Akagi!”

Something that sounds like an explosion comes from one side of Rei’s entry plug. There’s another in the distance: it must be Shinji and Asuka’s plugs, freed from their simulation bodies and racing for the surface. Rei feels the bottom of her stomach plummeting, her limbs beginning to shake. If her entry plug hasn’t joined the others, it must mean that she’s being kept by the Angel. The simulation body lurches again, leaning to the left. There’s a faint thud, and then silence. The alarms and static are gone, the only noises now coming from the water outside, moving slowly around. Rei closes her eyes, her breath rattling loosely in her chest. If she dies here, she thinks, she will be replaced.

_I don’t want you to die,_ a voice says. It sounds young, much like how a child would. It grates at Rei’s mind; she doubles over in her seat, clutching the sides of her head. _I am here to speak with you._

“Who are you?”

_Do you not recognize me?_ The voice asks, amused. A moment later, the splitting pain in Rei’s head shifts, wandering the surface of her skull. _Ah. You are called Rei. I thought you to be Lilith._

“Lilith…”

_You are not her, but you are of her._ There’s a pause in the speech, in the aching of Rei’s head. Then the voice returns, serene as ever. _You are not afraid of me,_ it says. _You are not afraid to die._

“I am not. If I die-”

_You can be replaced._ Again, a wryness- something about this amuses the Angel. _What of this other?_

“Other?”

_The one who loathes you. The one named-_

“Asuka?” Rei feels her stomach clenching, something cold creeping up her spine. It isn’t the Angel, but her own body, reacting to this news.

_Yes,_ says the Angel. _I caught her as she tried to escape. She is here._

“Why did you take us?”

_You will ensure that I am not interrupted as I search for Lilith. You will not harm your own._

“I am replaceable.”

_Your Asuka is not._

“She is not mine.”

_No?_ the Angel asks. _No, you are correct. She is not yours. She belongs to this._ The Angel presses against Rei’s mind again, and she sees behind closed eyes the image of the inside of Unit-02; a hospital wing; a patch of earth, recently disturbed. _She is full of fear. She lets it control her. Do you fear, Rei Ayanami?_

“No. I do no-” The image in her mind changes, a shifting swirl of colors that settles, eventually, into the Commander’s face.

_You doubt him. You fear the end of your usefulness._

“I do not.”

_You wish to feel. You wish to explore the emotions you see in others. You are afraid of what will happen if you are discovered._

“I am not.” Rei pulls her head in closer to her chest, brings her knees up to hide her face behind. “I am not afraid.”

_Are you?_ the Angel asks.

Commander Ikari’s face vanishes, and Rei is left alone with her thoughts again. She wonders if the Angel’s gone, if its sudden disappearance means she’s sent it after Asuka. Now Rei wishes it would come back, if only so Asuka won’t have to be the one to deal with it.

The world twists, sudden and sickening; the headache from before returns. When Rei opens her eyes, she’s no longer in the dark entry plug, but standing under bright sunshine. This isn’t real- she can still feel the LCL on her skin, in her lungs- but her mind is trying to convince her it is. This is the Angel’s doing, no doubt.

She’s ended up in a familiar part of Tokyo-3, one she passes every day on her way to school, but never stops at: a park. There are others, too: mothers and their children, schoolgirls clumped in groups, huddled in the shade of the trees. This must be a conjuring of the Angel’s, a way of taunting her, of showing Rei a life she’ll never be a part of. Rei spins around, looking for the Angel through narrowed eyes, and glimpses instead the familiar sight of the Commander’s jacket and gloves.

Commander Ikari is seated at the far end of the park, hands clasped in his lap, leaning slightly forward. He isn’t alone. There’s a woman beside him, her facial features familiar, her hair short and brown. Rei’s never seen a picture of her before; the Commander had destroyed them all, but she knows enough of Yui Ikari to know that this is her.

The Commander, having sensed someone is watching, lifts his head and scans the park. His eyes, hidden by bright orange glasses, sweep over Rei without stopping, as though she wasn’t there. Rei takes a step forward, lifts her hand slightly. Surely he must recognize her. Surely he’ll see her once he notices her.

Yui leans over, placing a hand on Gendo’s shoulder. He turns to look at her, a gentle smile on his face, and the warm breeze that’s been wafting through the park turns cold. Rei understands what the Angel is trying to say: after the end, once Gendo’s done with his plan, there will be no more room at his side for Rei Ayanami.

Rei turns away, breathing faster to deal with the inexplicable agitation beneath her skin. Her eyes wander the park, and between a gap in the trees, she finds Shinji, with Asuka by his side. They’re surrounded by a group of their classmates- Rei sees Kensuke and Toji hanging close to Shinji- and all of them look upon Shinji and Asuka with awe in their eyes. They realize now what they could not have in the past: the dangers that the pilots faced to protect the city; to them Asuka and Shinji are heroes, if not gods.

She goes over to them, slowly, drifting between the people on the walkways and the intermittent trunks of trees. Rei stops behind one, places her hands against it, gazing at Shinji. He’ll look in her direction soon, she thinks; he’ll notice her, he’ll welcome her over, and Asuka will object as she always does.

The greeting Rei hopes for never comes. Shinji looks up, but he does not look at her. He looks through her, eyes unseeing, and smiles at one of the people closer to him. _You are afraid,_ the Angel says again, _of being forgotten. This is the world you will make. Your Commander will abandon you. Your comrades will leave you behind._

“I am not afraid of this,” Rei says, and her voice trembles along with the rustling leaves around her. If the invitation she’s hoped for hasn’t come, then maybe she’ll at least be rejected. She looks expectantly at Asuka, waiting to be shouted at. Asuka presses herself closer to Shinji without a single word. Rei’s beneath her notice now, an unwanted reminder of things best left in the past along with the EVAs.

_You long for death. You long for a release. You do not mind, as long as it is another Rei Ayanami who sees this plan through to completion. You are afraid to face what will happen._

“I am replaceable.”

_You believe yourself to be, because if you did not, you must realize what will happen._ The park fades away, and Rei is once again inside her entry plug, knees to her chest, breath pounding painfully at her ribs. There’s a stickiness on her cheeks that wasn’t there before, and it isn’t the LCL. _Your Shinji will have his family. Your Asuka will have the praise she desires. What will you have?_

“Commander Ikari will not abandon me.”

_Has he not already? He has not sent for you. When he has Yui, he won’t need you anymore. He won’t need someone who looks like her when he has her._ The Angel pauses, and Rei imagines it would be smiling if it could take a physical form. _You feel it now._

“I-” Rei’s voice dies, strangled by a lack of air. Her chest heaves to take in more, trying to fill lungs that feel too small. There are spots in the corners of Rei’s vision, growing larger by the second. “This is fear?” she whispers. The Angel does not reply. It’s gone now, its presence replaced by a cold void; it must be talking to Asuka. Rei tries to hope for the alternative, that it might be dead, but she knows that isn’t so. Her entry plug is still trapped inside the simulation body, so the Angel must be alive.

This is fear. She has a name for it now, the unnerving feeling that’s been pursuing her all day, that she’s felt at the edges of her being in the past. She has felt an emotion at last, and it’s as overwhelming as she imagined it to be. Rei presses herself against the seat behind her, trying to control her breathing and failing. As the frantic, instinctual part of her mind begins to override the rest, Rei finds herself wishing that if this is what emotions like, then she’d rather never have felt this at all.

* * *

The sudden upward progress of Asuka’s entry plug has been halted by something equally abrupt, sending Asuka flying from her seat. She lays in a heap at the front of the plug, nursing what’s certainly a bruised, if not fractured, arm. She refuses to think it might be broken- to be injured in a standard test, of all things, is the mark of carelessness.

Slowly, favoring her other arm, Asuka works her way up the incline of the entry plug and back into the seat. It creaks as she rests her body upon it, echoing the sigh she releases through clenched teeth. “Autopilot test, my ass,” she grumbles, reaching for the controls. “Misato? What the fuck just happened?” She’s answered with only an unnerving silence, punctuated by brief bursts of static. Of course- she’s outside the simulation body; none of her transmissions will get through. “Fuck,” she mutters, settling back against the seat. She’s stuck here, now, for some reason; they’ll probably end up getting Shinji and the Commander’s favorite out of the testing area before they come for her. The perks of being a suck-up, she thinks.

_Another one?_

“Who’s there?” Asuka spins around, eyeing the blackness behind her seat. “Shinji? Wonder Girl? This isn’t fucking funny.”

_You are the red one. The color that she hates._

“That who hates? Who the fuck are you?”

_You’re… simple._ The voice echoing in Asuka’s head stops, and for a moment it feels as though the entire entry plug is being enveloped in something other than water, like Asuka’s suddenly being immersed in a sea of pity.

“Is this part of the test? This is sick, Misato!”

_You haven’t figured it out by now?_ The entry plug creaks as an image unfolds in Asuka’s mind of Rei’s simulation body bringing the entry plug closer. _I am what you call an Angel._

Asuka opens her mouth to reply. The LCL chokes it out; Asuka pitches to the side, curling up on the seat with a hand pressed to her skull. It’s throbbing now, like a second heartbeat, threatening to drown out her thoughts. “What do you want from me?” she manages to say.

The Angel does not respond. Asuka feels it touch her mind, drifting through it like a wayward thought. It’s zeroing in on something, though Asuka doesn’t know what. It rummages through her memories, too quick to follow, leaping from one to the next.

“Enough!” Asuka shouts, banging her head on the seat beside her. She feels the Angel’s amusement and slams her head down again, as if that will somehow shake its hold on her. “Get out of my head!”

_Very well,_ the Angel says. Its presence lifts from Asuka’s mind, leaving behind a stillness that settles over the entry plug. For once there’s no noise, no sounds of machinery; the only thing that moves is Asuka, breathing hard, her injured arm tucked close to her chest. She opens her eyes, expecting to see the interior of her entry plug.

Instead, she’s staring down Misato. “You’re being taken off active duty,” she says, consulting a paper in her hands. “You’re going back to NERV Berlin.”

“What?” Asuka snaps. She tries to step forward, but her body is being weighed down by some immovable force. “What’s this about?”

“Rei’s outdone you on the past five sync tests. Shinji’s stayed consistent, but you’re dropping. It costs us millions to repair the EVAs after each fight, Asuka, and if it comes down to it we need to keep Unit-00 and Unit-01 running more than we need Unit-02.”

“So you’re just… sending me away?!”

“No, Asuka,” a familiar voice says. Asuka whips around, the wood flooring of Misato’s apartment becoming sterile white tiling. She recognizes this place; it lingers in her dreams, engraved there by the time she’d spent living in its halls, breathing its stale air. Asuka approaches the one-way mirror, placing her hands on the glass and staring into Kyoko Zeppelin Soryu’s hospital room.

“Mama?” she asks, her voice quavering.

“Don’t go, Asuka,” Kyoko says. Her words are directed away from the mirror, towards someone by her bedside. Asuka would recognize that blue hair anywhere, and she doesn’t stop to ask why Rei Ayanami would be sitting in her mother’s room. She bursts through the door, staring at the other two, daring them to look at her.

“That’s not me!” shouts Asuka, placing a hand to her chest. “I’m Asuka! I’m your daughter!”

“You’ll come with me, Asuka, right?” asks Kyoko. “You’ll be a good girl and die with me?”

Rei nods, a slow, deliberate motion. Asuka strides forward, trying to reach the foot of the bed, but no matter how long her steps are, she does not move closer. “Mama!” she tries again. “Why are you talking to her? Why are you talking to that doll!?”

“You really are the perfect daughter, Asuka.” Kyoko extends her hands, palms up, towards the person in the chair beside her. Rei is gone; now there sits a double of Asuka, who receives Kyoko’s touch upon her cheeks with a bowed head.

The copy looks at Asuka, a sickly smile spreading across pale lips. “She doesn’t need you,” the copy says. “I’m perfect. Didn’t you hear her? The perfect daughter. The embodiment of piloting. No one needs you anymore.”

“That’s a lie!” Asuka screams. “I’m better than that doll! She’ll never beat me! I’m the one, I’m the real Asuka, _look at me_ !”

Kyoko raises her head, bringing blue eyes to bear on Asuka’s face. “Who are you?” she says. “You’re so unruly. You should be more like my Asuka. Why don’t you behave like her? I’m sure you’d do better then.”

Asuka doesn’t feel her knees hit the floor, nor see exactly when the hospital fades and the entry plug returns around her. She lies with her injured arm pressed against her stomach, the other lifted before her, nails digging into her scalp. She’s still surrounded by LCL; it permeates her lungs, but still she does her best to suck in a breath. Asuka screams, a shriek that echoes her shattered confidence, one that she repeats over and over until her voice has run dry and her lungs are empty, and even when she feels her entry plug released, she doesn’t bother going to the door. She lets the entry plug drain out, and once that’s done and she’s coughed up whatever LCL is in her, she lies on the floor with red beneath her fingernails and a rattling sound around her that could just as easily be the plug creaking as the tattered remnants of her voice.

* * *

The coldness from outside has seeped into the entry plug, and now it clings to Rei's skin. The rescue teams pull her from the water and crack open the hatch, letting sunlight in. Rei stares on with wide, empty eyes, not moving as she's lifted by the arms and raised from her seat. One of the workers bends over her and shines a light into her face. Rei’s pupils shrink, but do not move to follow it.

“She’s conscious,” the worker says into a radio on his shoulder. “Might be concussed. What do we do?”

“Get the containment team in there.” Rei recognizes the second voice speaking as Doctor Akagi’s. The sound of it registers as a faint buzz in her teeth. There’s no warmth in it, only necessity, a verbal mirror of all their interactions. “She was down there with the Angel for an extended period of time. We’ll quarantine her for 24 hours and see if anything happens.”

“And the same for the Second Child?”

“Yes, just to be sure.”

This knowledge lodges in Rei’s mind, a persistent thought. So it was Asuka that the Angel had been speaking of. She’d held, nurtured even, a hope that the Angel might just be lying to provoke a reaction, but it really had kept Asuka in the water with them. Rei’s eyes flicker to the sides, as if she’ll somehow catch a glimpse of the Second Child if she thinks about it hard enough.

“Let’s get out of here,” the worker says, backing out of the entry plug and waving his fellows away. “Contamination team’s taking care of the rest.”

Rei lays there, surrounded by the sounds of a motor starting up and tires crunching on gravel as the initial recovery team drives away. They’ve pulled the entry plug up to the edge of the lake to make her easier to reach, and that means Asuka would have to be nearby. Rei pushes against the seat, trying to lift herself so she can see out of the open hatch and maybe catch a glimpse of Asuka’s entry plug.

“Whoa, slow down.” A man in a white hazard suit pokes his head into the hatchway, blocking out the sun. “Don’t need you hurting yourself.”

“The Second,” Rei begins, and sees the rectangular face plate of the hazard suit tilt sideways, regarding her inquisitively. She remembers now where she is, and who these men work for. “She was captured as well?”

“She was. You’re both being placed in quarantine.”

“I understand.” Rei feels herself being lifted into the air, her body cradled by strong arms. She lays on her side, resting against the man carrying her. His suit is rough; its color reminds Rei of the hospital room where she’ll be headed, and of the sterile white bandages so often wound around her body. Her head spins- she thinks she might be sick- and then she’s being placed on a gurney, straps securing her body against it.

“It’s just a precaution,” the voice says. It’s flat, uncaring, and fails to be reassuring. “We’ll get you somewhere comfortable soon.”

The containment team forms a barrier of bodies around her, whisking her away to a vehicle nearby. Rei can’t see anything around her besides that sickening shade of off-white. She closes her eyes, waiting until she’s been lifted up again and placed inside the back of the vehicle to open them. If Asuka’s being taken to quarantine, then Rei will see her soon. No use looking now and drawing suspicion.

She expects the ride to NERV HQ to be silent. Instead the containment team chatters around her, inspecting her body for injuries, draping a hospital gown around her and drawing a sample of blood. She forgets they’re trained medics too; that’s the second thing she’s failed to consider in such a short period of time, and she chides herself for this lapse in attention. She must remember that they work for Commander Ikari; she must not show any sign that something has changed-

The Angel. It had said something like this to her. Rei’s eyes open suddenly, darting from side to side as if to confirm that she’s not still trapped in a vision, that this is all real. “Hold on,” one of the white masks says. “We’re almost there.”

They pull up to a stop by the medical entrance and unload the gurney. The front desk, normally staffed by one or two nurses, is unmanned. The containment team must have sent word ahead of them to clear the area until Asuka and Rei had passed through. She’s wheeled through silent, white plaster halls, the only noise around her coming from the gurney and the men accompanying her.

She’s taken to a room deep in the depths of the medical wing and left there. The containment team undoes the straps on the gurney and backs toward the door. The way the men are acting, they might believe their suits aren’t enough to protect them, or that Rei might suddenly try and attack them. It’s a silly thing to be worried about: she doesn’t feel differently at all, and she can barely manage to sit up.

Rei expects the team that brought her to leave, but they stand around, talking to each other in hushed voices. They’re waiting for something: the arrival of the Second Child, a confirmation that in spite of everything, things are returning to normal. Though she’s lying on a bed on the opposite side of the room, Rei finds herself waiting alongside them.

Asuka’s brought into the room about ten minutes later on a similar gurney with her own escort, though she isn’t strapped down. She lays on her side, eyes glassy, curled up under her gown with her knees against her chest.

“You two are staying in here,” one of the team leaders says. “You’ll need to be monitored for 24 hours to see if anything shows up. If nothing abnormal happens, you’re free to go. Until then, you’ll be kept in here. There’s a washroom in the corner that you can use. The door will be locked. Any attempt to leave will be treated as evidence of contamination.”

“I understand,” Rei whispers. It takes more effort to think the words than to speak them, and they’re heavy on her tongue as they slip free. The men in the white suits nod, and then they’re gone, retreating through the door and locking it shut behind them.

There is no hum this time from the hospital around them: just an uncomfortable silence that stretches on and the sounds of their breathing. Rei tries to push herself into a sitting position, but her arms only get her halfway: she slumps against the pillow behind her and hisses her frustration through her lips, pressed together.

“What are you so unhappy about?” Asuka snaps. Rei turns her head. Asuka hasn’t moved, nor has her stare- infinite, yet lifeless- changed. “You’re a _doll_. You don’t _feel_.”

Rei doesn’t answer. There is no reply that would be suitable for Asuka, she thinks. Asuka only hears what she wants to, and she won’t want to hear that Rei _does_ feel, and the only thing she knows so far is fear. She watches Asuka, face impassive, her stomach roiling nervously. She wonders if this is just Asuka’s silence before the storm, but no, that’s not quite it. She’s never seen Asuka act this way before: resigned.

They are still, like statues. It seems to Rei that Asuka is barely breathing, and the only sign of life she gives is the slow, methodical blinking of her eyes. There’s something wrong. The Angel must have showed Asuka something, but what? Perhaps the same future Rei saw, one in which she is alone- would Asuka’s fear really be as simple as that? Rei parts her lips, prepared to deliver the question, but Asuka’s eyes move toward her suddenly. In them, Rei glimpses a hint of Asuka’s old anger, and she stays quiet.

There is no window in this room. Rei didn’t expect there to be. She straightens her head and gazes up at the lights, counting them: five in total, one near each corner of the room and another near the center. Asuka is under this middle one, though she doesn’t seem bothered by its brightness. It looks as though she might never be bothered again, and Rei wonders if Asuka’s just stopped caring, or if she’s seen something so terrible that she would never want to care again.

At last Asuka moves, unfolding her legs and stretching them out on the gurney. She extends one arm, and Rei notices an angry streak of purple that covers the majority of her forearm. She’d been injured, probably when the Angel grabbed her entry plug out of the water. Rei, about to ask, catches herself and stops. She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t feel like this. They are pilots. This is part of their job, as is recovery. Sympathy for one’s wounds is never something that Rei has associated with piloting.

Yet here it is. She wants to ask Asuka what is wrong, if there’s anything Rei can do for her. It must be because of this ache inside her, the one that blossomed when the Angel showed her that vision, the one that’s been growing ever since. Rei wants to reach for Asuka, to be affirmed, to be told that Asuka will remember this, and that whatever happens, this one night in quarantine will live on in Asuka’s memory.

It’s a false hope. Rei closes her eyes and reaches down, pulling at the sheet beneath her to raise it over her body. If there’s nothing to do until the coming day, she might as well sleep, though even the thought of that frightens her. She wonders if what the Angel said will follow her into her dreams, and if it does, if that might be considered contamination.

“Hey.” Asuka’s voice, rough, breaks through Rei’s thoughts easily. She doesn’t open her eyes, but she does tilt her head towards Asuka slightly to let her know she’s been heard. “The Angel. It showed you something, right?” she asks. There’s something in her tone that’s been left exposed, raw, and Rei knows from the sound of it that Asuka is shaken as well. “What did it show you?”

The image of the park fills Rei’s mind, a future so imminent that it might as well be a reality already. Rei shudders involuntarily, and the gurney shakes with her.

“It didn’t show you anything, did it?” Asuka’s voice trembles, as though it walks the line between laughing and breaking. Rei imagines blue eyes gleaming, a lopsided smile on Asuka’s face. She doesn’t need to look to know that this is probably what lays beside her. “Or if it did, it didn’t work. It probably didn’t have anything to show you, anyway. It’s because you’re a doll. A pet of Ikari’s. Just an emotionless-”

“That is not true,” Rei murmurs.

“What is? You’re saying you can feel?” Metal creaks- that must be Asuka, shifting so she can look at Rei with both eyes. “Oh, this is good. You think you can _feel_ , now? Go on. Name something you’ve felt.”

Rei opens her eyes, looks directly at Asuka. Those blue eyes are no longer empty like the sky; behind them is something more. Asuka needs Rei to admit her inferiority so that she can feel better, even marginally so, and yet Rei cannot give this to her. The only alternative is to tell the truth and hope it’s enough for Asuka.

“I am afraid,” Rei says, and she hears the rattle of a breath dying in Asuka’s throat.

“Afraid?” scoffs Asuka, after a pause. “Of what?”

“I am afraid of what the Angel showed me.” Rei squeezes her eyes shut, and she’s surprised when Asuka doesn’t comment. She’s waiting, it seems, for Rei to collect herself, and this act is so unexpected and so unlike Asuka that Rei begins to doubt that she’s really left the Angel’s vision. “It showed me a world where the Angels were gone. No one had need for me anymore. The Commander did not need me. You and Ikari did not, either. No one could see me. No one remembered I had existed.” Rei pauses, licks her dry lips. Her throat feels dry too, but she doesn’t want to get water. The thought of being out of someone’s sight, if only for a few seconds, is too much for her. “Is that not what will happen when we have served our purpose?” she asks, a tremor in her voice.

She looks with expectant eyes at Asuka, who simply stares back. Here’s an unneeded revelation, one Asuka might have been better without, but there’s no taking it back- she and Rei fear the same thing. When everything’s done, the world has no use for someone who’s only been trained for one obsolete thing. They’ll be alone in the world, no family left for them, NERV disbanded without the threat of the Angels. No- they’ll have to be remembered somehow. A monument, a mention in a book, something to keep their memories alive.

Rei, taking Asuka’s silence as the answer she’s being given, lowers her gaze. “Are all emotions like this, Second?”

“Like what?” Asuka lifts herself off her gurney, enough to scoot a little closer in Rei’s direction.

“So… painful,” Rei whispers. “Overwhelming…”

“No,” says Asuka. “Not everything’s like this. There’s… other emotions. Sadness. Happiness.”

“I do not know if I have felt those.”

“When you went to dinner with us after the other Angel, did you feel anything?”

“I…” Rei is about to say no; the word is poised on her lips to be delivered. She remembers that warmth that suffused her, the one that lingered for long after she’d finished eating and disappeared as soon as the others had. “I am not sure,” she says instead.

“You will, someday.” Asuka closes her eyes and pulls her sheet over her shoulders. It looks as though she, like Rei, intends to sleep for most of the quarantine period. “You might not know it, but you’ll feel it.”

“Yes.”

Rei watches Asuka bring her injured arm against her body, curling up as if to defend this one weakness of hers with the rest of herself. The rise and fall of her chest is more pronounced now, like somehow her brief talk with Rei has undone a knot in it that was keeping her from breathing normally.

The containment crew told Rei they were being monitored, but as she looks around the room, she can see no cameras, no places where a microphone might be hidden. It’d be safe to conclude that the means of observation must be something different, maybe infrared. Or maybe Ritsuko’s just posted guards outside the doors, and if there is an Angel and a containment breach, they’ll be the first ones to go. Such a strategy seems like something the Commander would order- use replaceable pawns first, so that everyone else will have time to prepare.

Asuka opens her eyes again. Rei doesn’t realize she’s let out a sigh, normally quiet, but amplified by the silence of the room. The Second Child watches her, and this time she seems to be looking for something. From the way she cradles her bad arm, Rei thinks Asuka might be searching her for injuries.

At last, Asuka speaks. “You told me what it showed you,” she mutters. “I’ll tell you what I saw. It’s only fair.”

“You do not have to tell me anything, Second.”

“What if I want to?” Asuka snaps, and a hint of her is back, just a little bit. That fire dies just as quickly as it sparked, and Asuka settles heavily against the pillow, clutching at it so it partly covers her face. “And why do you keep calling me that? My name’s Asuka. Call me that. Soryu. Anything that isn’t fucking ‘Second’.”

“That is your title.”

“You said it yourself, we’re not going to be pilots forever. Are you going to listen to me, or not?”

That wound of Asuka’s is showing, not the one on her arm, but the one hidden inside her. Perhaps that’s what Asuka’s trying to defend- not her arm but the fragments of her pride that she’s kept from being completely lost to the Angel. “Very well. I will call you Soryu,” Rei says, and from the way Asuka’s shoulder settle into the sheets, she knows that this has put Asuka’s mind at ease, if only a little.

“If you ever want to get close to anyone, you’ll have to work on that,” Asuka says. “Not calling people weird things. It closes you off from them.”

Rei’s not supposed to get close to people, though Asuka doesn’t know that. That’s just another liability, a bond that’ll be fractured by death or Instrumentality, whichever comes first. Still, Rei nods. Anything to keep Asuka from shattering again.

“At first the Angel told me I couldn’t pilot. It told me that you beat me, so Misato dismissed me. No one had any use for me.” Asuka stops, and there’s that flicker in her eyes again; she looks as if she wants to make Rei forget what she’d said and pretend they never spoke at all. “Then it changed. I… saw you replacing me,” she says. It’s not quite the truth, but there’s no way Asuka is mentioning Kyoko to Rei; there are some things that even now she’ll keep to herself. She doubts Rei told her everything about her vision, anyway. “You know why I hate you?” she asks Rei. “Everyone thinks you’re perfect. A good student, a good pilot- you never do anything, and they love you, and you tell me you’re replaceable. If that’s true- if you believe that- then what does that make me?!”

“You are not replaceable, Soryu.” Rei rolls onto her side to look at Asuka, pulling her pillow back under her head. “Do not believe yourself to be. Someone like me could never take the place of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Asuka forces the words through lips that have clamped together, anything to stem the tears that threaten to run loose from her eyes. Rei doesn’t answer that. She can’t, and even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t risk passing Asuka knowledge that would be dangerous to her. Instead, she delivers a question of her own.

“How are you not afraid all the time, Soryu?” she asks. “If fear is this strong, how do you overcome it?”

“There’s other things, you know,” Asuka says. She sounds resigned, like she’s speaking of things she’s given up hope of ever feeling for herself. “Like I told you, happiness. Small things, too. Eating a meal with friends. Seeing something beautiful. They keep you going. You don’t have to be afraid of living when there’s things like these.”

“Would it not be easier to not feel fear?”

“It would be. It’s what makes us human, though.” Asuka’s mouth quivers, as though a smile had attempted to cross it and drowned in the vast sea of Asuka’s own uncertainty. “You were going to sleep, weren’t you?” she says. “We should. If we stay awake in here for too long, we’ll go stir-crazy.”

“Yes,” Rei says. It occurs to Asuka as she looks upon Rei how small she is, how little of the gurney her body covers, how the sheet draped over her could just as easily resemble a shroud. It seems, based on her designation as the First Child, that Rei has been trained to pilot an EVA her entire life, but her stature does not reflect it. She’s lean, but there’s no muscle, and more than anything she doesn’t have the mental fortitude that was pounded into Asuka since her first year of training. As she lays there, every line of her body looks as though it was etched by fear, and Rei herself looks afraid to sleep, like if she does the nightmares she’s staving off will come and swallow her whole.

On impulse, Asuka sticks a hand through the bars of the gurney and into the space between them. She doesn’t have to stretch far- the distance isn’t that great- but she can’t reach Rei’s gurney without moving her own closer. She watches those red eyes settle upon her hand, struggling to evaluate what to do with it. Suddenly, Asuka finds herself wondering why she’d ever expect Rei to take it when she didn’t even know what fear was.

Rei shifts her weight, rolling so she’s lying mostly on her back, and reaches a hand towards Asuka’s. It draws closer, pale fingers reaching out, nearly making contact. As quickly as it was offered, Asuka’s hand is pulled away, and Asuka herself is turning over. Of course, Rei thinks. The Second Child has never been one for sentimental gestures, so why start now? She closes her eyes, fighting down the disappointment building in her so she can try and sleep.

Then, the screeching of metal from nearby. Rei’s eyes fly open and she looks in Asuka’s direction. Asuka has gotten up, the effort of which is visible in the bend of her knees and the way she hunches over her gurney as she pushes it towards Rei’s. Her injured arm is still tucked against her, the other extended fully, bearing the weight of the entire structure. She stops just short of where Rei lies and begins taking down the railing between them, moving with a confidence that suggests experience in the matter. Rei doesn’t ask, just watches as Asuka drags the rails to the nearby wall and leans them up against it. There will be questions tomorrow, perhaps; Commander Ikari will want to know why Asuka has done this. The lie comes readily to Rei this time, surprising herself. She’ll tell him, if he asks, if he even cares to summon her and find out, that Asuka simply wanted more space, and Rei obliged.

Asuka pushes the gurneys flush against each other and climbs back into hers. Her injured arm knocks against the rail that’s still in place, and her face contorts into a wince. Still, she makes it back to the edge closest to Rei, and once that’s done she extends her good hand again, laying the back of it near Rei’s pillow. This time, Rei does not hesitate. She places her hand in Asuka’s watches Asuka’s warm fingers envelop it, and with them comes, for the first time, a feeling of comfort.

“Soryu?” The name leaves Rei before she can stop it. Asuka looks up at her expectantly. “You are the more skilled pilot of us both. You are the one more likely to survive.” Asuka looks surprised, but before she can speak, Rei continues. “Will you promise me that if you do… you will not forget me?”

Red eyes latch on to Asuka’s face, lingering there with desperate hope. Asuka nods, tries to work her words past the sudden lump in her throat that’s materialized. “I will,” she rasps, and squeezes Rei’s hand. “I promise, Ayanami. No matter what happens, I won’t forget you.”

“Thank you,” Rei says, and closes her eyes. Those words, Asuka thinks, are the most decisive ones she’s heard from the First Child. She imagines Rei to have forced them through before her tears could fall, so she could feign slumber and let the burning in her eyes peter out. Asuka does not comment on this. She instead lays her head on her own pillow and closes her eyes. If her suspicions are correct and Rei is indeed on the verge of tears, she doesn’t need Asuka to observe that. They have shared enough of themselves with each other already. Still, Asuka keeps herself awake, waiting for that hitch in Rei’s breath, for the sharp inhales of suppressed sobs. Instead she hears Rei’s steady breathing, coming in a cadence that wraps around Asuka like a blanket of its own and lulls her to sleep.

* * *

The lights in the room are off when Asuka wakes up. Neither she nor Rei had turned them off before they went to sleep; she suspects they’re on a timer or something like that, or someone had turned them off when they’d come to check on the two. Asuka’s eyes dart down to their hands, still joined. She wonders if someone might have seen- but then again, who would care; who would they tell?

Rei’s face is relaxed, and there’s no indication that the day before she’d experienced a nightmare unlike any that could be made by the human mind. Asuka wonders if she’s always looked like that when she slept, if before yesterday she had any other expressions other than her usual stoic blankness. Something had to have made her like this, so closed off from everyone. It couldn’t be- it has to be- something happened in this facility; or rather, something didn’t.

Asuka looks down at Rei’s face, wonders if she might be dreaming. If she is, Asuka hopes her dreams aren’t nightmares, like the ones that follow her around. The Angel didn’t have to work very hard with her, she thinks- it just reached into her mind and pulled her dreams into her waking thoughts. With Rei, it must be the opposite. Rei represses everything, or has had it repressed. Whatever’s the case, it must have happened here. Perhaps this is why Rei bears the designation of First; the training program they used on Asuka had to come from somewhere. When you raise a child to get into a giant robot and face down death, they have to be ready, or else things happen.

Things like Rei: her emotionlessness, that lack of interest in anything that isn’t an order, happen. But that’s changing now. Again, Asuka finds herself drawn to their hands. There’s something to be said for this. It’s comforting, knowing that they’re not alone; that their hands are still together is proof of this. They’re not that different after all, Asuka thinks. If she and Rei can be reduced down to something as simple as a gesture, then there has to be more in common than they’re both admitting.

She could let go. She could prove herself wrong and distance herself from Rei, insist that the two of them are nothing alike. Rei murmurs in her sleep, an unintelligible sound, and her fingers twitch against Asuka’s. No, Asuka thinks. She won’t let go, if only for Rei’s sake. She leans over, places her lips by Rei’s ear. She must truly be desperate, or something like that, if she’s doing this. It doesn’t matter, though. No one will see this. No one will know these words that were whispered, meant for Rei’s ears only. Asuka tucks a strand of hair behind Rei’s ear and sighs, keeping her voice soft so as not to wake Rei.

“I won’t forget you,” she whispers, squeezing Rei’s hand. “Remember that.”

The First Child does not stir, nor give any indication that she heard what Asuka said. She sleeps on until morning, Asuka’s hand never separating from hers, and dreams of a world not where she is forgotten, but where she is still anchored, even if only through this promise.

* * *

They wake in the late morning without saying a word: Asuka first, and then Rei. For a while, they do nothing but sit on their gurneys, fingers intertwined, pointedly avoiding looking at their hands or at each other. This kind of waking is too strange for them both; Rei is used to being alone and going at her own pace, while Asuka finds herself lost without Shinji to prod into action.

As always, Asuka is the first to move. She excuses herself to use the bathroom, fingers sliding free from Rei’s, though Rei can sense her hesitation. She is doing this because she has to, to spare them both the awkwardness of the inevitable parting.

Asuka changes from her old hospital gown into a new one, found in a cabinet beside the sink. It scratches at her skin, and it’s almost unnecessary seeing as they’ll only be kept for a few more hours, but it’s better than old one which has hardened from the LCL residue that stuck to it. When she emerges, Rei goes in after her, and comes out too having changed.

They’ve done the only thing to really do, and again the two of them retreat to their gurneys, staring down at the rumpled white sheets. There’s nothing in the room to indicate the passage of time or how much time they have left in quarantine, but they don’t have to wait for long. Soon they hear the telltale sounds of a lock being turned, and Ritsuko walks into the room with a clipboard and no protective gear.

“You’re both clear,” she says, consulting some papers. “No contamination has been detected. Leave your plugsuits here, I want to run some tests on them; I’ll give them back before your next sync test. You can go to the locker rooms and change into your regular clothes there. You both should be fine, but if you feel strange, come see me immediately.” Ritsuko nods, having delivered her mandatory speech. “You’re dismissed.”

“Finally,” Asuka snaps, stretching her arms high above her head. “This was getting unbearable.” She hops off her gurney, walking towards the door. Rei hesitates to move, wondering if Doctor Akagi had noticed the gurneys pushed together, the rails still detached against the wall. If she had- if she told Commander Ikari- but it looked like she didn’t notice at all.

“Are you coming?” asks Asuka. She’s stopped at the entrance of the room, head turned over her shoulder, waiting for Rei to join her. Rei nods and goes over to her, walking slightly behind her- it’s just what feels natural.

They take an elevator down to the locker rooms, Asuka leading the entire way. It’s just another sign that life is slowly returning back to normal. Tomorrow they’ll go school and act like nothing happened; neither of them will tell Shinji about what went on beneath the surface of the lake with the Angel. Asuka is too proud, and Rei no longer has it in her to share what she saw, not when she’s extracted a promise from Asuka regardless.

Asuka and Rei’s lockers are on opposite sides of the room. They stand with their backs to each other, separated by a bench, slipping out of the hospital gowns and back into their normal clothes. Asuka looks over out of the corner of her eye as she pulls her shirt over her head. “Did you sleep well last night?” she asks. Her voice sounds better than it did the night before, but it’s still soft.

“I did,” Rei says. She pauses in pulling on her skirt, looking at the hand that had clung to Asuka’s throughout the night.

“Good.” Asuka grabs her school bag from inside the locker and shuts it with a bang. “Right. I’m going.”

“Soryu?” Rei looks up at Asuka, still half-dressed: her uniform shirt has none of its buttons done, and she’s put on her skirt backwards. She’ll fix this once Asuka leaves, but right now her priority is quelling this sudden uprising of nervousness within her. “Did you meant what you said last night?” she asks. “About remembering?”

“Of course I did!” Asuka replies. “I promised you, didn’t I? I don’t break my promises.”

“Will you remember me even if I am replaced?”

It’s such an odd question that Asuka doesn’t answer immediately. She can’t possibly think of why Rei would be replaced. They don’t have another EVA or a pilot; even with the three of them, there’s the chance that one might be overcome by an Angel and another would have to take their place. “Of course I will,” she says. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I promised you. Anyway, you’re not going to be replaced.” Asuka smiles at Rei, a gentle upward turning of her lips. “You’ll be fine,” she says, and then she strides through the door and is gone.

Rei watches the door swing shut, then goes back to doing up the buttons on her shirt. It isn’t the answer she had been expecting. She had expected an affirmative, and could not have hoped for more. Though Asuka’s wrong- Rei Ayanami can be replaced- her words are somehow reassuring. They beat down that churning in her stomach, and by the time Rei has dressed and made her way to the elevator, the fear from before has vanished, so as to have never been there at all.


	4. Astraeus

There’s a sync test going on, but Asuka can’t focus. Her mind, too occupied with things she doesn’t want to consider, refuses to stop racing. She’d said too much to Rei during that night a week ago, and that, somehow, is more important to her than her score for this test. Asuka’s caught the First Child looking at her more than once, and though the ability to hold Rei’s attention is one she’d long coveted, this is not what she desires.

Asuka sighs, breathing a stream of bubbles into the LCL of the entry plug. Nothing’s been going her way this week. First Rei, now this, and then that weekend that might graciously be referred to as a complete mess. She went on a _date_ , though it could hardly be called that; it was more a silent meet-up, since Asuka didn’t want to speak and she was too intimidating for her date to try saying much. It reminded her of college in Germany and the boys there. They didn’t know how to handle her either, and they were just as quiet. If they’d been any different, maybe she’d remember them as men instead.

Asuka opens an eye, peering under her eyelid at the images of the First and Third Child superimposed on her viewscreen. Rei looks the same as ever: calm, a little bit tense. She must be remembering, as Asuka is, the last time they were in an simulation body. Though the Angel is gone, its presence lingers in the form of their own doubts, a problem Shinji will never have to face. He looks composed, though he’s wearing a slight frown. What right does _he_ have to look so down, Asuka thinks; _he_ didn’t have an Angel rattling around in his head, and last night he’d kissed the most attractive girl in their year, if not the entire school.

She’d overdone it on the mouthwash. Asuka can still taste the mint on the back of her tongue half a day later. She hadn’t needed it all, either; she’d just used it to feign disgust, to disguise her anger, her sadness, at not having been held. Asuka doesn’t know why she’d even expected that of Shinji. No one has bothered to hold her since Kyoko did, and that was a time so long ago that Asuka can’t even remember it. All she has are pictures, left behind in Germany, and the stories told to her by a man who she’d never believed since she saw him cheating on her mother. She’d been a fool to hope that Shinji, a pilot like her, would somehow be different from every other boy she’d kissed.

“You three can come out now,” Ritsuko says, her voice filling the entry plug as the LCL begins draining out of it. Asuka startles from her thoughts, opening her eyes in time to see the pictures of Rei and Shinji vanish from the screen. “We’re done.”

Asuka rises immediately and heads for the hatch, wrenching it open with a twist and spilling onto the walkway. She doesn’t need to hear what she already knows, that Shinji must have surpassed her on that last test and now lays claim to the title of best EVA pilot. Even from the scaffolding, she can hear Misato’s voice congratulating him- disgusting. No one ever congratulated _her_ on her scores. It was always _there’s still room for improvement, be sure to try harder next time._

Her teeth grind together as she stalks towards the locker rooms, ignoring Rei, who’s also exited her plug. Rei steps forward, clearly intent on trying to speak to Asuka. She takes in the Second Child’s shoulders, raised high near her ears, and chooses instead to follow silently after her.

The anger that Asuka’s holding in rushes out as she kicks in the locker room door, swinging it into the wall on rusty hinges. “Good for _him_ ,” she spits, decompressing her plugsuit and tearing it from her body. She slings it onto the bench between the two rows of lockers, not caring that half of it lands on the floor. This is a very different Asuka from the one Rei’s observed before; this Asuka doesn’t seem to care about piloting at all, and yet it’s all a front. She’s hurting inside- she must be- this reality is one like the vision the Angel had showed her, only it’s Shinji who’s overtaken her and not Rei.

“He’s finally done it,” Asuka says. Her tone has swung from bitter to cheerful in seconds, and the smile on her face is forced, looking more like a grimace. She pulls on her uniform clothing with such force that Rei is certain that Asuka might rip it. “He did it so _easily_! It’s so irritating! The great, the _wonderful_ Shinji! If he’s so unbeatable, we might as well just retire now and let _him_ deal with the rest of the Angels!” Asuka slams her locker door shut, glaring into the metal, as if willing it to melt under the heat of her gaze. “We’ll have to work harder to keep up with him now, won’t we?”

Rei closes her own locker, having changed and dressed during Asuka’s rant. She grabs her school bag, staring at her hands. What can these do for Asuka? Nothing. These hands were made to pilot EVA. She cannot help the Second Child. Rei steps toward the door, and as she draws closer she feels a pit deepening in her stomach: this must be guilt. She stops just in front of the door, turning her head to catch a glimpse of Asuka. She must help, or she will never be able to justify leaving now.

“You are afraid he will replace you,” Rei says. Asuka spins towards her, fists clenched.

“Why are you saying the obvious?!” she asks, her voice bordering on screaming. “Why aren’t you worried? You don’t want to be replaced either, do you? No wait, you don’t _have_ to worry about anything, because I already promised I wouldn’t forget you. Isn’t that right?!”

“It is not that, Soryu. You cannot be replaced as easily as you think.”

“And how would you know that?!”

Rei turns away. She can’t bear to have Asuka looking at her like that, desperate and angry, and it confuses her as to why this is. “I simply know,” she replies, and reaches for the door.

Asuka doesn’t stop her as she leaves. She watches the First Child disappear through the door, and once it’s stopped swinging and the hinges have stopped creaking, a different sound fills the locker room: Asuka driving her fist repeatedly into the lockers. She only quits once the knuckles of her hand are bloodied and there’s a red-colored dent in the metal, and even then all she’s done is given herself a second throbbing pain to match the one in her chest. “You don’t know anything,” she whispers. “You keep saying you can be replaced.”

Asuka wants to run out into the hall, scream this at Rei and see what happens. She wishes she could go back to that night in quarantine and stop herself from saying so much, from promising something she earns nothing from. She imagines Rei’s hand in hers, encircling hers, turning her hand over to examine the swelling beneath the redness.

Weakness, that’s what this is. Asuka shakes her head- there’s no room for that, not when Shinji’s surpassed her. She can catch up, she knows she can. As long as she focuses, it’ll be alright; that’s what her training’s taught her. And yet, her training has never prepared her for failure. She could never afford it, so she never failed, just worked past things, but now she’s come across something she can’t overcome so easily. How pathetic, she thinks, and exits the locker room into the empty hall. No wonder her mother had never looked up at her. There was nothing to be proud of, nothing worth looking at in that hospital room of hers.

* * *

The Commander is absent again from the city when the Angel alarms go off. Rei finds herself wondering if this is intentional, if he’s excusing himself from the city in order to not be around when certain Angels arrive. It’s the first time she’s truly questioned the Commander’s actions, an experience just as unnerving as the white and black orb hovering over the city.

There isn’t much to say on the ride up to the EVA hangar; Asuka hasn’t been speaking to Shinji since the sync test, and Shinji knows better than to try and test Asuka’s patience. Rei stands between them until the doors open and they’re released onto the walkways, Shinji hurrying ahead of the others to avoid Asuka.

Rei goes to her entry plug and seats herself inside it, closes her eyes as the entry plugs shut the hatch and LCL begins pouring down around her. She is about to enter combat with an Angel. If she dies, she will be replaced; more than that, she will be remembered. Despite their differences, Rei has no doubt that Asuka will uphold her promise, even if grudgingly.

“The Angel is currently located over the west portion of the city,” Misato is saying to them. “You will obtain a weapon from the armory and approach with caution. We will be deploying power stations throughout the city so you may connect your EVAs to them. Any questions?”

The biting remark that Rei expects doesn’t come. Asuka is silent; her portrait on the viewscreen shows that she’s folded her arms and is glaring at something, probably Unit-01. She places her hands back on the controls as Misato starts the launch sequence, and then they’re shooting up through the catapults into the heart of the city.

The Angel waits dead ahead, a dark sphere against the sun, oddly quiet. The three EVAs scatter in equal silence, taking up positions behind buildings. “Listen up,” Misato says. “All the data we have is being sent to your EVAs right now. Engage it slowly. Lure it out of the city if you can. Asuka, you’re on backup.”

“Roger!” Asuka says. She sounds cheerful enough; there’s a smile on her face that looks genuine, but Rei knows it to be that same tone she’d heard from Asuka in the locker room before. She thinks, briefly, of Asuka’s hand. Would it still be bloodied beneath that plugsuit? Had Asuka been taking care of it? Rei shakes her head, tries to dispel these thoughts. She is about to fight. She cannot think of anything besides her mission and that nagging in the back of her mind that today might be her last day alive.

“By the way, Misato, I think Shinji should take the point position!” Asuka exclaims.

“Wait, what?” asks Shinji.

“It’s the obvious choice. Shinji’s got the highest ratio out of all of us. Anyway, isn’t being the leader a _man’s_ job? Or if you’re not feeling up to it, _I_ could always volunteer for you.”

“I’ll do it! And I’ll show you how it’s done!”

“ _What?_ ”

“You said it yourself, I’m the pilot with the highest score,” says Shinji. “Anyway, combat’s a _man’s_ job, isn’t it?” Shinji shoots a thumbs up at the comm window, a confident smile on his face. Right now, he looks and sounds more sure of himself than Asuka does, and that in itself spells more to this defeat of Asuka’s than anything Shinji’s score might say.

“You- fine!” Asuka shouts. “Unit-02 will be backup.”

“Unit-00 will be backup as well,” Rei says, confirming her position. She regrets grabbing the high-powered rifle now, but at the time it had seemed best: Shinji had a pistol, Asuka had an axe, and she thought she should get a long-range weapon. Now, standing just a few hundred meters from the Angel, she thinks she and Asuka should have exchanged their choice in weapons. Rei Ayanami is the expendable one, not Asuka Langley Soryu. The axe in Unit-02’s hand suggests the opposite; it’s a reflection of Asuka’s subconscious, of the belief that she’s just as replaceable as Rei.

Unit-01 lumbers forward, treading heavily on the asphalt streets. Unit-00 and Unit-02 tail behind a short distance away, navigating around the taller buildings that they can’t step over. They’ve all split up; it’s a simple, instinctive matter: if the Angel should try to attack, it won’t be able to take out all three of them at once.

“Ayanami, Asuka,” Shinji whispers, as if the Angel can somehow hear his transmission. “Are you two in position?”

“Not yet,” says Rei.

“I can’t move that fast!” Asuka snaps. Rei turns her head and glimpses the red form of Unit-02 disappearing behind a building with a power cord in hand. This problem of staying connected to a power source is what’s keeping them behind; Rei doubts the fight will last that long- the Angels they’ve beaten before have all been defeated in less than the five minutes their batteries allow- but they must adhere to protocol.

Up ahead, the purple frame of Unit-01 edges closer to the corner of a building. The Angel is nearly upon Shinji’s position; another minute, and it will see him. Asuka is still navigating the city blocks- she might not make it in time. Rei’s about to call to Shinji and tell him to pull back, when Unit-01 sticks its arm around the building and fires three shots at the Angel.

The black orb disappears, and the shots sail past into the open sky. The Pattern Blue alarm sounds in all three entry plugs at that moment, indicating the presence of an Angel. Rei’s head whips around- maybe it’s somehow gotten behind her- but out of the corner of her eye she sees the shadow unfolding beneath Unit-01 and realizes she’s wrong, and she’s too far from Unit-01 to help.

“What- what is this?” Shinji stammers. He fires his pistol into the shadow, kicking up orange globs that stick to the surface of the EVA. He’s sinking into it, as if it’s quicksand; already it’s up to Unit-01’s waist and advancing. “Misato?!”

The Angel reappears above him, a stationary yet present threat. Misato’s voice crackles over the speakers: “Shinji! Shinji, get out of there!”

“You idiot, what’re you doing?” Asuka shouts, charging towards Unit-01. Her EVA’s power cable snags on a corner; she tears it from her back and keeps going without missing a beat. “Move!”

She’s answered by a guttural stream of shouts as Shinji empties the pistol’s clip and tosses it aside, trying now to claw his way to the edge of the shadow. The hands of his EVA stick in the mire and pull him down faster. “Misato!” he screams. “Misato, what’s going on? Misato! Asuka, Ayanami? Where are you?! Misato!”

The head of Unit-01 dips beneath the shadow’s surface. The horn follows after it a moment later, and now only static comes over the line, rather than Shinji’s cries. “Shinji!” Misato shouts. “Asuka, get to him!”

“I’m going!” Unit-02’s feet pound against the pavement as she leaps the length of a city block, crashing down near where Shinji had disappeared into. “Wonder Girl, back me up!”

“I do not think-”

“Just _do_ it!”

Rei turns and places a foot on a nearby building, bracing Unit-00’s back against another one, slowly raising the rifle in front of her. If Shinji could not land a hit on the Angel, surely repeating his tactics would not suddenly cause them to succeed. Asuka is far beyond the reach of reasoning, so Rei does not tell her this; she instead pulls the trigger twice, sending two bullets towards the Angel.

The first one sails past into the city; the second clips a building as the Angel again disappears. “What?” Rei hears Asuka say, and Unit-02 has barely tilted its head down when the dark shadow that took Shinji spreads under her EVA. “Shit!”

Unit-02 leaps up faster than Rei could have imagined- faster than Shinji could have reacted, she thinks- and grabs onto the edges of a nearby building. The added weight of the EVA sends the building sinking faster, and Asuka’s frustrated groan fills the channel. “Asuka, climb!” Misato says.

“I know!” Asuka sinks the axe she’d grabbed into the side of the building, clambering atop it and working her way up the structure. The buildings around the one she’d grabbed are sinking as well; the ones near the edge of the shadow, stretching a hundred meters from where Unit-02 stands, have already disappeared into the darkness. There’s no escape for the red Evangelion and its pilot.

Rei feels the rifle slipping from Unit-00’s fingers, the massive EVA beginning to stride forward despite no clear command being given. It’s responding, somehow, to that doubt that’s begun to fester in Rei’s mind, that if both Unit-01 and Unit-02 are taken, she might as well join them, for without them the act of living wouldn’t quite be the same; she’d rather join them in this unknown place than face it alone.

“The whole city is sinking,” Asuka murmurs, having reached the top of the building. Unit-02’s head swivels from side to side, not looking for an escape path, but simply taking in the destruction.

“Asuka, Rei.” Misato’s voice cuts cleanly through Asuka’s murmurings. “Withdraw to headquarters.”

“But…” Rei hears herself say. “Ikari and Unit-01 are still…”

“It’s an order,” Misato says, coming out more as a whisper than an actual command. “Withdraw.” The bottom of Rei’s stomach drops out; it feels as though she’s sinking into the same substance that had dragged Shinji down. “Rei, get Asuka out of there.”

Rei is about to ask how that’s possible, how she expects Asuka to get clear of the shadow- hop to the edge of the buildings and then jump and hope Rei catches her?- when the darkness coating the street vanishes. The buildings that had slipped into it crumble to the ground, cut off at the point up to which they’d sunk. Asuka yelps as her building tips forward, spilling Unit-02 onto the ground. She rises to find the Angel hovering over her again, and Rei darts forward with a speed that she’d only achieved in simulation tests to grab Unit-02 by the arm and haul it away.

“You idiot!” Asuka screams. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up on him, too!” Unit-02 flails its arms; Rei leans Unit-00 to the side to avoid them. “Let go of me, Wonder Girl!”

“We have been ordered to retreat.”

“Damn the orders!”

“Soryu-”

“Don’t _call_ me that!”

This, Rei knows, is Asuka’s only way of reacting to the loss of Shinji- by pinning the blame for it on someone else, so she won’t have to live with having goaded Shinji into taking the lead. Rei, being closest, will be the one Asuka takes it out on. She will accept this. It’s just another burden that Rei will have to carry, one easily divested once Instrumentality is complete. There will be no one for Asuka to blame, after all, once everyone is gone.

Rei holds Unit-02 still as the technicians force Asuka’s entry plug to withdraw. They park Unit-00 and Unit-02 side by side a few kilometers from the Angel’s location and bring the pilots to a nearby roof. By now, the Angel has reached the heart of the city and hovers there, blotting out the sun like an eclipse, sending a long silhouette over the tops of the buildings. Misato’s set up a command post on one of them, directing the stream of tanks and military vehicles that parade in the deserted streets below.

Asuka stands with her back against one of the air conditioning units mounted on the building they’re on, arms folded across her chest. She pays no mind to Rei, who’s walking aimlessly back and forth across the rooftop, trying to expend all the nervous energy that’s bunched up in her limbs. When Asuka speaks, though, she’s loud enough for Rei to hear, as if she’s directing her words into the gap between them and seeing if Rei will dare to respond.

“Some pilot he is,” Asuka mutters. “What use is having the highest sync score when if you get into combat, all you do is this?”

Rei slows, missing a step that should have been taken. She stares at Asuka, eyes narrowed slightly, waiting for her to say something else. “Well?” Asuka demands. She does not waver under Rei’s scrutiny, though she does unfold her arms and face towards her. “What, are you going to say something to me? _He didn’t fail, he tried his best,_  right? Go on, spit it out!”

Rei surveys Asuka for a long moment. The setting sun reflects off her eyes, turning them a burnished shade of gold. There’s something in that gaze that makes it look like Rei could get into her EVA now and go fight the Angel, and Asuka believes she would win. Her stomach churns, but she returns Rei’s glare with one of her own, daring her to speak, to defend Shinji.

Instead Rei says, “Do you feel guilty, Soryu?”

“Guilty? Why would I feel that?” Asuka laughs, though like everything else she’s done since Shinji disappeared, it’s forced. “It’s his fault that he went in without backup, not ours! We told him we weren’t ready!”

“It is what you said that caused him to act so recklessly. If you had not-”

“It’s not _my_ fault he acted on his own!”

“Did you not tell him that he should be the lead position, since his score was highest?”

“I- well-” Asuka stammers. “So what if I did?! A leader doesn’t just go in like that without waiting for his backup!” Asuka takes another step, places herself within Rei’s personal space. To her credit, the First Child does not budge. “What’s with this all of a sudden, anyway? Is this ‘cause you couldn’t do anything to help him? Is that what this is about?” Asuka’s face twists strangely, as if some mixture of disgust and pity is fighting to win its way free. “You’re not going to tell me you _feel_ something, right?”

At last Rei looks away, and the way that the shadows fall over her eyes makes it look as though they could be rips in reality, recesses of darkness from which there is no returning. “Feel?” she murmurs. “Yes. I do feel. I do not know the name for it.”

“You don’t feel!” Asuka screams. The faces of those on the rooftop turn towards them, including Misato’s. Asuka ignores them all, grabs Rei by the shoulder and slams her into the side of the air conditioning unit. “You don’t even know what it’s called!”

“You are contradicting yourself-”

“Do you think I give a damn?!” Asuka raises a hand; for the first time Rei realizes that angering Asuka might have physical repercussions. She should have thought of this before, should have remembered the bloodied bruises on Asuka’s hand, but Asuka just flails her arm into the air, gesturing furiously at nothing. “Alright, go ahead. Tell me what you _think_ you feel.”

Rei closes her eyes, digging deep within her for that elusive tinge of pain that’s been lingering at the edges of her being since Shinji disappeared into the Angel’s shadow. “It hurts,” she whispers. Asuka lets go of her shoulder. “Near my stomach. It hurts when I think of Ikari.”

“You miss him?” Asuka’s voice is oddly restrained. There’s no anger to it now, though Rei can hear it lingering beneath the surface, ready to explode out at any time. “You want him back?”

“Yes,” Rei says. “I want Ikari to return.”

“Of course.” Rei opens her eyes and finds Asuka’s turned away. Now there’s something like hatred in her voice, only it’s a kind that Rei’s never heard from Asuka before. “You only feel when you’re the one affected. Wouldn’t Shinji love to hear that when he comes back? He made you _feel,_  isn’t that the achievement?” Asuka laughs, a harsh, short sound. “You’re just as selfish as I am, aren’t you? You want him back, and that’s the only reason you feel anything.”

“That is not-” Rei begins, but Asuka’s already walked away, shaking her head. There’s a smile on her face, insincere and bordering on broken. Rei goes back to leaning on the place where Asuka had been, her eyes closed as she mulls over Asuka’s words. Selfish- that’s never a word she’s had applied to her before. Her entire existence is for Commander Ikari- if anything, that would be selflessness- but no, she’d made Asuka promise not to forget her. Would such an act be considered selfishness, she wonders, then would that mean she would normally not be worthy of being remembered?

There’s a cold pooling in her stomach, that familiar touch of fear. Rei thinks of her other bodies waiting below; she thinks of Unit-00, calibrated specifically to receive Rei Ayanami regardless of her memories or how long she’s been active. Even the system that interfaces with the mind of the First Child has been programmed not to remember her specifically, but just the general feeling of her.

Perhaps Rei Ayanami was not meant to be remembered after all. As Rei thinks about it, this reality seems increasingly likely. Shinji has the others he calls his friends; the Commander will have Yui. Asuka, save for their promise, would have no reason to want to remember Rei. She is being selfish then, by making Asuka keep this promise. Of course Asuka is right. She always is. Rei opens her eyes, sees the Angel suspended in the air, now just a dark ball against the light of the setting sun. Asuka isn’t always right- she was wrong about Shinji and his readiness to be the one to engage the Angel. How quickly Rei forgets.

Then it occurs to her- she is the second Rei. She has no memory of being the first. Rei Ayanami is forgettable, even to herself; if she cannot remember who she is, then there’s no reason for anyone to do so, either.

* * *

Rei is of the opinion that if one N2 bomb didn’t have an effect on the Third Angel, then 99 of them won’t make a dent in the Twelfth. Still, she’s on stand by with Asuka, waiting for the bombs to drop. With Commander Ikari gone, the decision lies with Misato, and this is the one thing she could think of to possibly try and recover Shinji. If it doesn’t work- here Rei runs into another problem; she wants to believe Shinji will return, but all logic says this attack will fail- maybe the EVAs can do something while the Angel is still recovering.

Or maybe they’ll all be consumed by the Angel’s shadow: city, EVAs, and all.

“Bombers are five minutes out,” someone says. Rei tilts Unit-00’s head skyward, watching the empty blue expanse for the formation of black dots that will signal the beginning of the attack. Beside her, Asuka fidgets in Unit-02, playing with the ends of her hair.

“Outpost to Command, we’re reading movement!”

The black surface of the Angel twists and contorts, bulges protruding from its spherical body. “Hold the bombers!” Misato shouts; the line crackles with static as Unit-00 staggers back, its footing thrown by the bucking of the earth beneath it. “Asuka, Rei, pull back!”

Rei complies, but Asuka stays. She must have concluded, as everyone else has, that if this isn’t an attack of the Angel’s, then it must be Shinji’s doing, and Asuka is not willing to move away so easily. Unit-02 plants its feet firmly on the ground, refusing to be budged.

The Angel shudders again, this time spraying red blood. From inside it emerges the distinct shape of an arm. The next thing Rei sees are the eyes: orange, glowing, piercing the darkness of the Angel’s body like twin beacons. Unit-01 reaches with both hands to tear the Angel apart from the inside, pushing its head through the bloody gap and roaring into the morning sky.

“What is this…” Rei hears Asuka whisper. “Are we… piloting things like _that_?” Rei knows the answer to this, but she watches in silence: there’s no need to tell Asuka the obvious.

The trickle of red from above becomes a stream, then a shower, as Unit-01 drops from the Angel’s corpse to land on the ground, kicking up the Angel’s blood onto the nearby buildings. From it there comes a deep groaning, as if it’s the EVA that’s in pain, and not the Angel that it just ripped apart.

The city is still in the aftermath, petrified. Overhead, the bombers fly past, leaving a crosshatch of white contrails in the sky. Unit-00 and Unit-02, their pilots too stunned to move, stand facing Unit-01. The lights of Unit-01’s eyes slowly dim as they look on, and Unit-01 sways from side to side, looking as though it will fall again.

Unit-02 is there to catch Unit-01 as it wobbles, laying it face-down upon the concrete. Shinji’s entry plug, now responding to remote commands, slides up from the EVA’s neck and begins oozing orange, gooey LCL from the vents. “Mark the Third Child as recovered and the Twelfth Angel as dead,” Misato says, her voice growing fainter. She must be walking away from her command post, and the last thing Rei hears her say is, “I’m going to see him for myself.”

The rest of things fall into routine for Rei from then on. She remembers her EVA being secured in the catapult and taken back down; she remembers the elevator ride back up to the surface, in which Asuka was entirely silent. Even as they make their way over to where Unit-01’s entry plug lays, it seems like Asuka has nothing to say, or rather she is still in shock from Unit-01’s display: it could be either.

Misato is already there when Rei and Asuka arrive. She’s descended into Shinji’s plug, ignoring the risk of contamination- or maybe there isn’t any, since Shinji was kept in his entry plug the entire time. Rei moves to the edge of the hatch, placing a hand on it. It’s strange how eerily this echoes the ending of their first fight together, only this time it’s her that’s come to Shinji, and Shinji that smiles up at her from inside the plug.

“Ayanami,” Shinji whispers.

“Ikari.” Rei nods her head, the only greeting that seems appropriate right now. “I am glad you have returned.”

“You’re not the only one.” Shinji grins and gestures at Misato, still hugging him. Rei acknowledges this with another bobbing of her head and steps back, removing herself from Shinji’s line of sight. Even to her, it’s clear that this moment of his with Misato in the entry plug is not one that’s meant to be shared.

“Of course,” Asuka mutters from directly behind Rei. Rei hadn’t realized Asuka was so close to her. She turns, and Asuka is scowling at her from a few feet away. “ _You’d_ be glad to have the number one pilot back. It means you’re not in danger anymore. Now you have one pilot to protect you, and the other one to sit back and watch how it’s done.”

“That is not-”

“Shut up.” Asuka does not raise her voice, nor is there any heat to it. It is low and cold, and even though Asuka doesn’t meet Rei’s eyes, Rei feels that the mere act of Asuka looking at her has her rooted in place. “Just shut up.”

Rei doesn’t say anything else. She watches Asuka walk away, moving against the traffic of NERV vehicles and personnel that come streaming towards the EVA and the bloody remains of the Angel. She watches until Asuka is no longer distinguishable from the crowd, and only then does it come to her that she’d been looking for Asuka’s red this whole time.

* * *

In another one of those strange paradoxes of life, Asuka finds that the hospital wing of NERV was not designed for overnight stays. It speaks to either NERV’s degree of unpreparedness, or the more likely (and callously accurate) prediction that those who piloted EVA would have no one who would stay by their bedside for a full night.

Asuka has been waiting outside Shinji’s door since the late hours of the night. She isn’t inside, because Rei’s there, and Asuka’s had enough of being stuck in hospital rooms with Rei for a long while. So she won’t be the first one that Shinji sees when he wakes up- that’s not the end of the world. In fact, it’s probably for the better: now, her guilt won’t cause her to lash out at him. There’s a bitterness though, one that comes from this necessary waiting. She’s second again, not in the sense of her title, but in that she’s the one left waiting again, always behind the First or Third Child.

It’s a silly bitterness, she knows. She’s letting the past she swore she left behind- _Look at me mama, love me!-_ dictate her feelings. Asuka hunches her shoulders and meshes her fingers together, stares at the neatly arranged tile flooring. Whoever did this put more thought into a fucking floor than the EVAs. Five minutes of battery. Five minutes of battery in an age of intercontinental air travel. Something stinks about this, but Asuka can’t quite put her finger on it.

There’s a scraping in Shinji’s room, the sound of a chair being pushed back. Shinji’s awake, then. That, or Rei’s finally gotten tired of waiting and wants to leave. Asuka rises on legs that are still not quite stable and wobbles over to the door. It hisses to the side just as Asuka gets there; she glimpses Shinji, eyes open and sitting up in his bed, over the top of Rei’s head.

Asuka knows she’s been seen. She darts behind the doorway, out of Rei’s path, and hears Shinji snickering from within. She’s made him laugh- that should be something good, right?- but no, he’s laughing at her; it isn’t the same.

Rei has already started towards the elevator. Asuka storms past her, hoping to beat Rei there, maybe seal her out so they won’t be stuck in the same one for the entire ride back to the surface. “Soryu,” Rei calls as Asuka goes by.

“What?!”

“Do you not want to see the Third Child?”

“I already saw him, thank you very much!” Asuka snaps.

Rei walks a little faster, catches up to Asuka in a few strides. It takes a visible effort, but Rei manages to keep pace with Asuka down the hall. “Why are you angry?” she asks. “You waited the whole night. You should go to him.”

“You were there too, weren’t you? I saw you go in. Between you and Misato, that brat’s got all the sympathy he needs already.” Rei has caught up; she hovers at the edge of Asuka’s periphery. Asuka reaches out, shoving her away. “Besides, why are you complaining?” she snaps. “Isn’t this a good thing?”

“I do not understand.”

“You’re the only one who talked to him. You’re the one he’ll remember. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“What I want…”

“Not to be forgotten! Don’t tell me you don’t remember that!” Asuka throws her hands up into the air, exasperated. “Forgetting what you wanted- you aren’t really _that_ stupid, are you?”

Rei simply stands there, head bowed, rubbing the part of her shoulder that knocked into the wall. Asuka glowers at her, one of her eyes beginning to twitch. The First Child’s apathy is something she can’t deal with any longer. She wants to leave; she needs to; she’s known since she was young that hospitals are no place for her to be, and today has proved this to still be true.

“You’re useless!” Asuka snarls, walking over to the elevator. She mashes her finger against the call button, demanding the it come and lift her out of this place, away from Rei and that strange friendship she’s formed with Shinji, that Asuka knows she’ll never match. When the elevator arrives, Asuka finally looks back, sparing a glance. Rei is still standing in that same place where Asuka had pushed her, but she’s stopped rubbing her arm. She does not move, nor does she look up from the floor. The elevator doors begin to close, blocking her from Asuka’s sight. She reminds Asuka of a little girl, staring into nothingness as a bed and its entourage of equipment rolled by.

* * *

Two days after the Twelfth Angel is defeated, Shinji Ikari is released from the NERV facility. Two more days later, Rei is summoned, this time to the dummy plug plant. She takes the elevator down with the Commander and Doctor Akagi. As always, there is nothing to be said. They do not ask her how she is. They know the answers they expect to hear- _I am well_ , Rei will say to Akagi, and to the Commander she’ll say _I am awaiting orders_.

When the doors open, Rei is the last one out. She wanders towards the center of the chamber, trying not to look at the smiling clone bodies that inhabit the aquarium set into the walls. She wonders what the last Rei Ayanami had said to the Commander, what the next one will say. It wouldn’t surprise her if the answer was still _I am awaiting orders._

Such consistency should be a comfort to Rei, but today it puts that cold sliver of fear into her spine. She climbs into the tank in the center of the room without prompting, stands there and waits for it to be filled with LCL. This will be quick, Rei thinks. Just a standard check-up, and then she’ll be allowed to go.

She must have tempted fate with that thought, or perhaps this is the price to be paid for her wishes for Shinji’s return. “We’re doing something different today, Rei,” the Commander says. He tugs at his gloves as he stands by Doctor Akagi, something Rei’s never seen him do before. Something must have happened while he was away, to warrant this change in schedule.

“Yes.”

“We will be transferring your personality data into a system known as a dummy plug. You must be sure to give us the best readings.”

“I understand.”

“We will begin, then.”

“Yes.”

Ritsuko presses a few buttons on a remote, and the tube begins filling with LCL. Though it’s warm, this time there’s no familiarity to it; through the buffer of liquid and glass, she hears the Commander and Doctor Akagi speaking in low tones.

“Even if Rei’s data is perfect, there’ll still be some problems,” Ritsuko says. “The Second and Third Child’s personality matrixes are entirely different from Rei’s. Their EVAs may have some trouble synchronizing.”

“What matters is that we have the technology,” the Commander replies. “Install it in their Evangelion Units. We will refine it as necessary.” He pauses, adjusting his gloves again. “Can we use the data from the synchronization tests?”

“No. If we wanted to use their personalities for dummy system, they would have to take an individual reading.”

“I see.”

Rei expects the Commander to say something more, but he doesn’t. He and Doctor Akagi stand there, monitoring the tube despite there being nothing to really see. All the data they need is being transmitted to servers hidden deep in the facility, accessible only by a few people and the MAGI.

Rei keeps the silence with them, though her mind races through the conversation she’s just heard. There are no plans to replace the pilots with dummy plugs, not yet, but the implication is there. It should be good; Rei should be happy: Shinji and Asuka will be out of harm’s way, and the only one who’ll be in any danger is her.

It won’t quite be that simple, though. She knows the others won’t take it like that. They’ll see the dummy plug for what it really is, a replacement for flesh and blood pilots. It’s nothing new for Rei. For Shinji, he’ll be sent away again, and won’t be so much of a surprise to him. But Asuka- she’ll be replaced, sent back to Germany with no EVA and no one to acknowledge what she’d given up to be a pilot in the first place. If Asuka ever found out- and she will; those dummy plugs read REI on the side- Rei will have to answer to her.

The device in Ritsuko’s hand beeps, clearly audible even to Rei in her tank. She opens her eyes, and Doctor Akagi is looking not at the device, but at her. “Rei,” she says. “Is something wrong?”

Commander Ikari shifts his stance, a subtle movement of his weight. It’s his eyes that Rei feels boring through the tank now, and not Akagi’s. “No,” she says. “Nothing is wrong.”

“Remember, if there’s any disruptions in the data, we won’t be able to use it.” Ritsuko dismisses the alert and returns to monitoring the streams scrolling across the screen. After a moment, Commander Ikari relaxes and returns to his previous pose.

Rei closes her eyes again, releases a sigh that leaves her as a stream of miniscule bubbles. There can’t be any more moments like that; another upwelling of emotion, and Akagi might notice. She fights down the hollow in her stomach, ignores the tremors that threaten to break her composure. She must not waver. She is not Rei Ayanami the pilot now, but Rei Ayanami the specimen. She will deliver a perfect reading, as ordered. She will not let on that she worries somehow that her fledgling emotions will leak through and corrupt this reading, ensuring the continued need for pilots, if only for a time.

It hurts, staying still, not letting herself feel anything. Rei endures it anyway. She has withstood worse for the Commander- and yet, he’s never thanked her for it, has he? Rei wonders what Shinji might say if he could see her, or Asuka. Asuka would doubtlessly shout at her. Rei can imagine her voice now: _why did you ask me about emotions when all you do is try not to feel?_

Rei suppresses another shudder and tries to clear her mind. She will not explain to this imaginary Asuka that she does this for their sakes, so that they will be safe. It is easier to believe this lie, to not question it, than to consider a future in which Shinji and Asuka are gone and she must face Instrumentality alone.

* * *

Asuka knows where Kaji is by knowing where he isn’t. He’s not at Misato’s apartment; Akagi hasn’t seen him all day; he must be somewhere inside NERV, most likely the office he’d been assigned. Asuka doesn’t know what exactly draws her towards him, but she can hazard a good guess. Shinji hasn’t really spoken to her since the fight with the Twelfth Angel, and Rei is off being Rei, which leaves Asuka with no one to speak to, much less pay her any attention.

Kaji will pay her attention, she thinks, or she’ll get him to. She’s proved herself in combat repeatedly now; she’s more than a child. Surely he’ll have to acknowledge that.

Asuka stops outside Kaji’s office, preparing to enter. Don’t worry, she tells herself, he’s had a long day of work, he’ll be glad to see you. It’ll be something to break up the monotony of it all, and maybe today will be the day something changes for her, too. Today might be when Kaji returns those feelings of hers, the ones that have grown faint and tepid to the point where hearing his name no longer warrants a reaction. She can fix this, _they_ can; Asuka knows it’s possible.

The door slides open. Asuka steps into the doorway, wearing her most innocent expression. Kaji doesn’t even turn around to look. Asuka takes another step. “Kaji!”

“Oh, Asuka.” He still isn’t looking at her. “Sorry, I’m pretty busy. Can it wait?”

Can _it_ wait, not _you_ . Asuka frowns, her hands balling into fists at her sides. He has time for _Misato_ , but not her. That isn’t how things should be at all. She’s equally as deserving of his attention as Misato is, maybe even more. After all, Misato isn’t the one piloting an EVA.

Asuka moves forward, throwing herself onto Kaji from behind, arms around his neck. Before she’s even completed her embrace, Kaji is leaning away. “Hey!” he says. “Not now, Asuka.”

“So this is our synchronization data?” Asuka asks, leaning towards the computer Kaji’s been working on. She won’t be dismissed so easily. Kaji will have to speak to her, even if it isn’t about things Asuka would prefer. “Wait…” She leans closer, the light of the screen burning her eyes. This can’t be right. There must be a mistake. “A Fourth…?” Asuka pulls back, turns toward Kaji, demanding an answer. “What’s this about?!”

Kaji says nothing. He places his chin on one hand and looks away, waiting for Asuka to settle down. “I don’t get it!” Asuka persists, trying to get him to talk. “What’s going on? How can someone like _this_ be the Fourth Child? Why do we even _need_ a Fourth? We’re doing just fine on our own!”

At last Kaji opens his mouth, though it takes another moment for him to gather his thoughts. “Apparently,” he says at last, “someone doesn’t think so.”

“Unbelievable.” Asuka steps back towards the hallway. Never mind that this is probably what Kaji wants, for her to leave- the sting of that is nothing compared to this new information. A Fourth Child means a fourth EVA, more competition for her. She should welcome it, but she can’t, not when the new pilot is Toji Suzuhara, and not after the mess that was the Twelfth Angel.

“He won’t beat me,” Asuka says as she walks down the hall. Behind her she hears Kaji shutting his office door; it registers faintly that he doesn’t care, that consoling Asuka is even less of a priority than preparing for this new pilot. “He’ll never beat me!” Asuka reaches the elevator, summons it, waits glaring at the doors. “I won’t let it happen. If someone as simple as him ever beats me,” she mutters, “I might as well resign.”


	5. Iapetus

The next day, Asuka leaves the apartment early to avoid Misato, and she doesn’t bother telling Shinji that she’s going. He won’t want to know, or if he did, Asuka doesn’t want him to follow her. What she wants is to be alone, to lose herself in the maze of buildings and stoplights until she won’t know which way to turn to go home.

Misato is leaving today for Matsushiro, for the Unit-03 activation test. Kaji will be watching over them while she’s gone. She should be glad- should look forward to the nights to come- but all Asuka thinks of now is the way Kaji refused to meet her eyes and the identity of this Fourth Child.

A car honks at Asuka as she begins to step from the sidewalk. The closeness of its passing ruffles her skirt and whips her hair across her face. Another few inches, and- well, she’s being dramatic, but Asuka doesn’t imagine it would have made any difference. With her gone, there would still be three pilots; Kaji might not look so disappointed; she wouldn’t have to fight Shinji for the position of best pilot-

There would be no one to remember Rei. The ‘walk’ sign turns on. Someone jostles Asuka’s shoulder as she lingers, stationary, frozen with the world moving around her. This shouldn’t bother her. Asuka starts across the street, heels hitting the pavement hard. Whether someone does or doesn’t remember the First Child shouldn’t concern her. There are other things to worry about, like Unit-03 and how to break it to Hikari- god, how _would_ anyone tell her that her crush is joining the ranks of EVA pilots?

There’s a dead end coming up ahead. Asuka turns herself right, following the stream of people and vehicles towards the center of the city. In her head she goes over what she’ll say to Hikari at lunch, when Asuka has pulled her aside for a quick word. She’ll say that Toji’s been chosen- yes, Asuka and Shinji will protect him; not a word about Rei- Hikari won’t have to worry-

Halfway through planning her speech, Asuka realizes she’s nowhere near the school, nowhere she recognizes, and there’s half an hour left until classes start. She wanders the city blocks, scanning for landmarks, her intuition guiding her back to the portions of Tokyo-3 that she recognizes. By the time she’s arrived at the school, her carefully laid talk with Hikari has fallen apart into meaningless, disparate phrases, and Asuka can’t bring herself to push the broken parts of it back together.

* * *

She couldn’t bring herself to smile at Kaji yesterday, in spite of the walk she’d taken. Today, Asuka can’t bear to look at Hikari. It doesn’t help that Hikari keeps hovering in the space near her desk, clutching a boxed lunch in both hands.

“He hasn’t shown up yet,” Hikari whispers.

“He might not come today,” Asuka says. She doesn’t look in Hikari’s direction. She can’t say the Fourth Child’s name.

“I thought he would…” Hikari’s hands tighten around the lunch. The smile she gives Asuka is as false as the ones Asuka tried to bring to her face the night before. “Do you want it?”

“No.” Asuka still can’t turn her head. She knows that if she does, she’ll either have to tell Hikari the truth, or Hikari will read it in her eyes. “Thank you,” she adds hastily. “Just save it. He’ll turn up tomorrow.”

“It won’t be as fresh then.”

Toji is out there, preparing to test Unit-03, and Hikari is worried about the freshness of lunch. It’s enough to make Asuka want to scream. Her emotions threaten to boil over, but she sits there and stews in her own cowardice, unable to tell Hikari the truth. “It’s the thought that matters,” she says.

Carefully, Asuka shifts in her seat, bringing her hand to cover the part of her vision that Hikari’s standing in, so she can look in Rei’s direction. Rei is, as usual, staring out the window. She doesn’t seem to be looking at the courtyard, though: her eyes look straight at the horizon. Asuka imagines Rei might be trying to see all the way to Matsushiro. “Hold on,” Asuka says, and stands up.

“Asuka?”

“Give me a second.”

Asuka approaches Rei’s seat, and it feels like she’s moving through water. Something in her wants to keep her from speaking to the First Child. It’s either a fear of what she might be told, or the lingering guilt of what she’d thought the day before. Rei does deserve to be remembered- to say she doesn’t is to ignore what dangers Toji has willingly put himself before.

“Ayanami,” Asuka says. Rei’s reflection moves in the window, and Rei is now looking at her. “Do you feel something?”

She knows this is odd, bordering on wrong, asking Rei what she _feels_. Maybe today’s one of those days where Rei isn’t sure what she feels, or doesn’t feel anything at all. Rei nods slowly, as if the act of this is agonizing in itself. “It is not fear,” she whispers. “But it is familiar.”

“How familiar?”

“I cannot say.” Those red eyes are moving; Rei rotates in her seat to face Asuka, and there’s uncertainty on her face. “It is just familiar.”

“Alright,” Asuka says. Her lips feel dry; she licks them to moisten them. Rei’s hand twitches on her desk, as if she’d considered reaching for Asuka to stop her before she left. Asuka keeps standing there. She doesn’t have anything else to say, but staying by Rei’s desk gives her an excuse not to go back to Hikari.

From across the room, Asuka’s phone goes off. Rei looks down at her bag, where her own phone has begun to vibrate. As one, they turn and look at Shinji. He looks back at them with wide eyes, nervously wringing the neck of the bag he brought his lunch in.

* * *

The trip back to the Geofront is covered in an eerie silence. There are no Angel sirens; the city is not being evacuated. Misato isn’t here to pick them up, so all three pilots cram into a car driven by Section 2: Asuka in the middle, Shinji and Rei on either side. Asuka looks to her right, away from Shinji; Rei is staring out the window- either she isn’t worried about the coming fight, or she knows (it’s impossible that she wouldn’t) about Toji, and can’t bear to look at Shinji because of this.

Shinji gets out first when they get to the Geofront entrance, by nature of being closest to the curb. For the first time, Rei looks away from the window. She looks at Asuka- no, she _watches_ Asuka, a sense of knowing in those red eyes. “What is it?” Asuka whispers, and immediately thinks herself an idiot. If Rei had something to say, she would have said it by now; she’s not the type to wait for someone to ask.

The men from Section 2 gather on the sidewalk, lining the way to the entrance. There’s no one else there, no stream of people fleeing to the shelters. Asuka doesn’t need to ask Rei again to know that something isn’t right about this. They exit the car, and it’s Shinji who leads them down into the Geofront.

Their silent procession heads straight for the EVA cages. There’s no briefing this time, probably because Misato’s gone. As they near the heart of the building, a chorus of voices joins the lights overhead: words, _explosion, Matsushiro_. Shinji pauses, his mouth opening to no doubt ask what’s happened. Asuka and Rei walk past him on either side, not deviating from their course. They don’t know, either. The easiest course of action is to enter their EVAs, and maybe then they’ll be told something.

Asuka climbs into her entry plug and starts playing with the cuffs of her plugsuit. Rei is already situated in Unit-00; as usual, it’s Shinji who’s the last one ready. High sync scores don’t transfer to battle readiness at all, Asuka thinks with a hint of pride, you have to _train_ to be ready for that. Or- the faint smile on her face disappears- what if Shinji’s afraid to pilot EVA now? He hasn’t spoken of what happened with the Twelfth Angel or how Unit-01 escaped without any battery power, but he knows as well as Asuka does what the roar of Unit-01 sounds like and the thick smell of Angel blood coating the ground.

At last Shinji’s entry plug disappears into the neck of his EVA. There’s the grating of metal as the restraints are removed and the EVAs are guided to the launch catapults; here in the entry plug is the familiarity of life that Asuka has come to rely on: get into Unit-02 and show the world what Asuka Langley Soryu can do.

Only it’s not so simple anymore. Shinji may be nominally the best, but he also has the most Angel kills out of all of them. Asuka tightens her grip on her controls, has to force herself to listen to the orders being relayed over the radios. They’re to walk to the outskirts of the city, eject the umbilical cables, and power down until they make contact with the enemy- she can do that.

Shinji could do that, too. There doesn’t seem to be anything he can’t do these days. Asuka guides Unit-02 to grab a pallet rifle from a nearby armory and marches towards the edge of the city, slightly ahead of the other EVAs. It’s her way of silently insisting that she’ll take the lead this time, Shinji’s sync score be damned. The others don’t object. Rei’s reaction times are too slow to make her efficient at the front, and Shinji doesn’t look as eager to take the role this time.

The three of them advance carefully, a procession of shadows moving between buildings. Here’s something else that feels wrong: there’s something out there, probably an Angel, though the pilots haven’t been given specifics yet. They’re moving too slowly to be advancing towards a threat; picking through the city is not the fastest way to go, not with the catapult exits Asuka knows are on the boundaries of the city line. They’re being given this route to keep their minds off what’s to come, but more importantly, NERV Command is waiting for the enemy to come to them.

The EVAs reach the flat plains of the outskirts as the sun begins to set, tinting the surrounding houses and hills with shades of orange. Asuka leans Unit-02 up in the shadow of a hill; Rei copies her, taking refuge behind the next. Shinji waits behind them both, his EVA next to a curve in the road out of Tokyo-3.

“They said Matsushiro, right?” he asks, shattering the fragile silence between them. “Misato was there… what happened to her and the others?”

“There has been no contact from the site,” Rei says. Asuka’s head swivels to gaze at Rei’s portrait on the viewscreen. The First Child is looking straight ahead, paying no mind to the other EVAs or the impending danger that approaches. She looks, if anything, bored, like this is another routine drill. Like a doll. Even after all that’s happened, Rei’s still acting like a goddamn doll.

“What… what should we do?”

“What’re you saying?!” Asuka snaps, pushing her way into the conversation. “There isn’t anything we can do right now. You’re worrying over nothing!”

“But… we’re fighting this thing without Misato…”

“Your father is in command,” Rei says. “We should not have to worry.”

“Target visual incoming.” Supposedly the Commander’s taken charge, but the only voice Asuka hears over the radio is one of the bridge members. She fidgets in her seat, plays with the buttons on the control sticks. Unit-02 shifts against the hill, carving a gouge out of it with its shoulder fins. She doesn’t need to look at her viewscreen to know what’s coming around the bend; she’d known what was going to happen ever since she heard the word _Matsushiro_ , because no one could get involved with EVA without first getting hurt-

“No way,” Shinji whispers. Asuka knows he must be shaking in his seat. She doesn’t have the heart in her to call him coward for it; if it were Hikari in that plug, she might be shaking too. “That’s the Angel?”

“Yes,” the Commander says. So he’s been here, listening the entire time. “That is your target.”

“But that’s an EVA!”

“The Angel’s taken over it?” Asuka mutters. Not quite what she’d expected- she’d thought something more total would happen, something more destructive than taking over an EVA. Then again- she shudders as she reminds herself- the minds of Angels are vastly different from the mind of man.

“Isn’t it… piloted by someone like us?” asks Shinji. “A kid?”

“Don’t you know already?” Asuka snaps. He has to know; surely Suzuhara would have told Shinji- but if he hadn’t told Hikari- “It’s-”

The dark head of Unit-03 pokes around the hill Asuka’s hidden behind. She freezes on instinct, her training telling her that if the Angel doesn’t see her moving, maybe it won’t notice. But no, they’re smarter than that, and what’s the alternative? She refuses to let Rei, or worse, Shinji, be the one to save her.

Her thumb snaps against the ‘speak’ button, cutting her EVA off from the others. It’s just her now in the massive construct that she’s regarded for so long as the center of the universe. Her and the Angel, and she wants to believe Toji is alive and still in there, if only for Hikari’s sake.

“Asuka?” Shinji asks. Somehow, she’s only shut out the traffic going _out_ , but not what’s coming in. She wants to tell him to shut up, wants him to just leave her alone while she shows him how to really kill an Angel-

Unit-03 raises its massive head, and Asuka can imagine it leering at her. The Angel knows she’s distracted, and it wants her to know that it knows. It lashes out before Asuka can react properly, hands reaching for Unit-02’s throat. Asuka gets Unit-02’s hands in the way, claws at the enemy EVA’s arms. If the Angel has chosen to grapple then that’s its mistake. Asuka excels at it; she digs in her EVA’s feet for purchase against the hill, then pushes back against the Angel.

Unit-03 appears to yield, staggering back in the direction which it came. Just a little longer, Asuka thinks: she already knows what she needs to do. The Angel will cross back over a little ridge in the landscape, and when it does, Asuka will shove it, it’ll fall, and then the others will be able to help her subdue it and extract the pilot. Then Unit-03 tilts its head, surveying Asuka with red, sightless eyes that seem to bore through all the armor and straight into the entry plug.

Asuka opens her communications channel again, preparing to call for backup. The Angel moves towards her with impossible speed; Asuka imagines Unit-03’s tendons snapping under the force required to move like that. She thinks, for a second, of Toji in the entry plug, and then she must worry about herself.

The Angel hovers over Unit-02, a substance like slime oozing from its shoulders. Asuka watches it drip onto Unit-02’s arm: a single drop at first, a trickle, and it’s then that the burning begins. She draws her hand back, biting back a cry, but Unit-03 has her EVA pinned. Unit-02 doesn’t respond, and now the enemy EVA is reaching for her throat, fingers splayed unnaturally far apart.

“Asuka?” Shinji is saying again. He must have heard that choked little cry that left her as the Angel contaminated her EVA. “Asuka, what’s going on?” She wished he’d shut up, wishes he’d stop worrying; she doesn’t _want_ his help, even if she needs it. The idea of being saved by Shinji again is so repulsive, she’d rather die than let it happen.

The Angel has released Unit-02’s hands in favor of its throat, and Asuka brings them up, striking at Unit-03’s face. This isn’t how she’ll go, this isn’t how she’ll lose. If Kyoko couldn’t kill her this way, an Angel won’t be able to- that’s how Asuka thinks, with the broken, irrational thoughts of a mind that hasn’t been conditioned to acknowledge defeat. Her arm, no longer setting her mind aflame, is going numb. If Misato were here, she’d be ordering Asuka to pull back, but Misato’s _not_ here and the Commander hasn’t said anything.

She must do this. Unit-02 strains up against Unit-03, reaching with Angel-infested arms to try and free itself. Unit-03 presses down harder, its face impassive. The Angel’s not gloating now, not showing even a hint of a desire to see Unit-02 and its pilot succumb. The Thirteenth Angel lifts its vessel’s head and scans the horizon instead, searching for the faint presence of Lilith it’s detected.

From behind the next hill, Rei Ayanami guides Unit-00 out from behind cover and opens fire with her pallet rifle. She can’t have seen Unit-02 fall, but she must have known from Asuka’s continued silence that something is wrong. Unit-03 turns, its eyes flaring with malevolent light, red like Rei’s.

“I have drawn the Angel’s attention,” Rei reports. “Bringing it to Ikari’s positi-”

The Angel is there, crouching over Unit-02’s motionless form, and then it’s gone. Unit-00 has barely looked up when Unit-03 lands atop it, more slime cascading off its shoulders to drip onto both of Unit-00’s arms and one leg. Rei’s mind, filled of thoughts of what she must do and how to retrieve Asuka, goes blank. Searing pain pours into her; Rei curls up on her seat, trying to shy away from it, but it’s as much a part of her as the Angel is becoming part of her EVA.

“Contamination detected!” Rei hears a voice say. Lieutenant Ibuki, from the bridge.

_You idiot_ , Asuka wants to shout, _move,_ but her voice is gone. It comes out as a broken creaking noise, indistinguishable from static. She places her hands to her throat and finds it sore from the Angel’s attack.

“Disconnect all infected limbs,” Commander Ikari says.

“But Rei is still connected-”

“There’s no time to argue. Do it.”

It’s odd how calm his voice is. This is the man Rei professes loyalty to, and he doesn’t have the decency to sound bothered by this. There’s a puff of smoke, and Asuka watches Unit-00 fall to bits, retaining only a single leg stuck to its torso. And then, the screams: long, continuous, with only quick pauses for breath; Asuka thinks she sees Unit-00 lift its lone leg into the air, the echoes of what must be Rei writhing in pain.

Unit-03 lingers a moment longer, staring at Unit-00. Asuka tries to sit up and order her EVA forward, but it’s useless. Her battery has run low, and with less than a minute left, it’s set itself to conservation mode: emergency functions and communication only. Asuka seizes her control stick, tries to shout to Shinji. _Help her, you idiot, help Toji, do something!_ She gets a syllable out before the coughing starts, releasing burning bubbles into the LCL around her.

At last, Rei’s screaming stops. Unit-03 remains bent over the prone form of Unit-00, like a hunter surveying its kill. From the fallen EVA comes the sound of heavy panting, the only sign that Rei Ayanami is still alive. Unit-03 shakes its head, the slightest of movements, and begins to walk towards Shinji’s position, as if it knows he’s already there. Behind it, Unit-00 twitches again, then goes limp against the hillside.

“Ayanami?” Shinji says into the quiet. “Asuka? What’s going on? Someone talk to me!”

His response comes from the Commander. “Your backup has been incapacitated,” he says. “You must bring down the target.”

That’s a lovely word for it, _incapacitated_. Surely Shinji must have heard Rei’s cries, but if he had- he must have- why isn’t he _doing_ anything?

“There’s someone in there,” Shinji protests. “A kid my age. How can that be the target?” There’s a thud and the sound of metal grinding. Asuka tries to turn Unit-02, but it doesn’t respond: the one thing she thought she could trust in no longer answers to her. “Father, there’s an entry plug! There’s someone inside!”

Another silence, and more sounds of metal being strained. This time when Shinji speaks, he doesn’t appear to be answering anyone. What the Commander says must be for his ears only; that, or Unit-02’s communications are beginning to fail. “There’s a person inside! I can’t kill another person. I have to save the pilot!”

Suddenly, the line goes dead. Nothing comes through, not even the muffled scratching that means Shinji’s moving around in his plug. Asuka crawls closer to where she knows the microphones are stored, presses herself near it. “First,” she tries to say, and fails. “Shinji.”

There is only Rei’s labored breathing and the deathly quiet of the entry plug. Asuka presses the button to drain out the LCL, coughing up what’s left in her lungs. It’s orange- that’s normal- but she doesn’t know if it’s always had this reddish tinge, or if she’s reading too much into things. She has to be- the alternative is-

A spray of blood arcs up into the air from the direction Unit-03 was headed, followed by an arm. In the sunset, Asuka can’t see what color it is. She prays it’s Unit-03’s, not for Shinji’s safety, but because she can’t bear the thought of having to hear _him_ in pain too. She’d heard enough of his terror during fights before, and that’s more than enough for a lifetime.

More blood, and still the silence persists. Rei’s breathing slows, seems to stop. Asuka feels her chest tightening, finds herself hoping it’s just because Rei’s fallen asleep- yes, that has to be it- there’s no way she’s going to be left alone in this entry plug.

After that last spray, there is nothing more. The sun sets over the countryside, bathing it in darkness. Inside her entry plug, Asuka has no way of knowing how much time passes. It feels like hours, though in battle time often does that, flowing in ways that defy convention. She curls up with her knees to her chest and tries to speak again, and again her voice fails to work. This was never something they said could happen; the sympathetic damage a pilot took was never supposed to be this great-

A crackling fills the entry plug. Something is coming back online, either Shinji’s line or Asuka’s. There’s still nothing from Rei, and Asuka’s begun to suspect that there won’t be, that there may never be again. “Shinji,” she tries to say, and this time she gets the full name out.

There’s no need; he wouldn’t have heard it anyway. Asuka hides her head between her knees and clamps her hands over her ears, but still she hears the horrible shriek that echoes in her entry plug, that must echo over the hills, perhaps even the city itself. From this scream, she knows there will be no more Fourth Child, and never before has she hated herself this much for wanting to be the best.

* * *

The ceiling is familiar, but not for the reasons Rei thinks it would be. As she sits up on her rusted bed, she feels the familiar aches of her body that tell her she is still Rei Ayanami, and hasn’t been replaced.

Rei touches her hand to her forehead, feeling for a bandage that isn’t there. She wasn’t hurt this time, she remembers. It was only the feeling of losing three of one’s limbs at once, the shock of it, and it’s not lost on her that _only_ is a qualifier that shouldn’t ever have to be there.

There are birds chirping outside, and the occasional shadow of one flits past Rei’s window. She’s been out at least a day, probably more. She wouldn’t have been left here for the whole time though; she must have been kept in the medical wing, and Section 2 would have dropped her off.

It all sounds like too much work for a replaceable part. Rei looks down at her hands: slender, untouched by injury. The Commander must have ordered she be kept and treated. It makes no sense; there’s nothing to lose by means of appearance: one Rei Ayanami is physically indistinguishable from another. The only answer that comes to mind is that Commander Ikari sees something worth saving in her: no doubt the effort that he’s put into gaining her loyalty, something like that.

If that’s- if she’s worth saving- Rei’s train of thought stutters, grinds to a halt. There shouldn’t be anything to save; that’s the entire point of Rei Ayanami’s existence. She is meant to be flaunted in the face of caution and told she could be replaced at a moment’s notice, but here she is in defiance of that. The truth is, must be, what Asuka’s been trying to tell her all along: that _she_ cannot be replaced.

_Asuka_. Rei feels something seizing in her chest. She doesn’t remember hearing Asuka’s voice after Unit-03 attacked her EVA. She doesn’t recall seeing Asuka eject, either. Rei’s stomach begins to sink, as if it’s trying to bury itself where maybe the world won’t be able to reach it, and take Rei down with it. There’s no way Asuka would have been… Rei hesitates to even think the word. In all her imaginings of what might come, Asuka is always there, as much a herald of the end as Rei herself.

The city is still standing, so Shinji must have won. If Shinji is here, then Asuka must be, too. There has never been a time when Rei’s considered that it might be just her and Shinji left to fight the Angels, and today will be no different.

Outside the birdsong slows, ceases. A pressure gathers in Rei’s skull, pressing at her temples. Rei closes her eyes and rubs the sides of her head. Barely a few minutes awake, and already she’s thinking too hard.

Now there’s a buzzing to accompany the throbbing. Rei takes a while to realize it’s her phone that she’s hearing and not some new irritation of her ears. It’s the Commander, and the predictability of this call is a mercy to Rei: she knows what he’ll say, what he wants.

And again, Rei Ayanami is wrong. The Commander is brusque, his voice rough, and he doesn’t wait for Rei to answer before he begins speaking. “You’re awake,” he says. He doesn’t ask when Rei woke up, but presses on. “The Third Child has renounced his position as pilot of Unit-01. The Fourth Child is currently incapacitated. Until a time in which we are less… understaffed, you are not to take any unnecessary risks.”

“I understand,” Rei says. The Commander has already hung up. It’s the first time he’s done that without waiting for verbal affirmation from Rei. She sits on her bed for a long moment, her phone still open in her hand, playing a dial tone. The Commander has said nothing about the status of the Second Child. He would have told her if something had happened to Asuka, Rei thinks disjointedly. He would have had to, because… something about the Scenario…

The tightness in Rei’s chest contracts, a stabbing in her ribs. Rei shuts her phone and stands, gripping the edge of her bedside table for support. She can’t stay here. If she does, the silence and her own doubts will drive her mad. Her thoughts, cast wide in a net for anything that could distract her, fall on Shinji. He’s resigning, so he must be leaving. If she hurries, she might be able to catch him while he’s still at Misato’s apartment.

Rei walks out the door and makes for the stairway; halfway there. she changes her mind, and decides to take the elevator instead. She doesn’t trust herself to find her way down the stairs, not with one leg that’s half-numb and that sometimes refuses to listen to her. Her arms are sluggish, too. It takes dedicated thought to move them, and even then her motions are jerky and clumsy. Keeping one hand out to the side, Rei moves across the lobby, steadily limping her way towards Misato’s place.

The blocks where Rei lives are quiet as always, but the noise of the city reaches even here. It comes in waves with the wind: the sound of passing cars and their horns; none of the chattering voices. The city is alive, but not necessarily the people. And here is Rei, in the middle of the part of the city that no one knows the purpose of, only that the buildings are there, and they are empty and dead.

Rei walks away from them with measured steps, slowly getting faster the further she goes. She shouldn’t be seen hurrying, but she doubts Section 2 is watching her now when there’s Shinji to monitor. There, too, is that expectation that Rei Ayanami follows orders, and does not leave her apartment to go visit decommissioned pilots.

The trains are still running. A look at the schedule tells Rei she’s been out for about two days. One train runs by on the opposite side of the station, not stopping, its cars full of students coming from class, going somewhere to relax after classes.

There’s no such place in Tokyo-3 for Rei. The closest she gets to that is maybe her tube in the dummy plug plant, but even that will be destroyed when the Scenario is complete, and its proximity to Central Dogma means the Angels are more likely to stumble through it.

A train pulls up, doors opening with a slight creak for the lone girl on the platform. Rei stumbles into the car, grabbing the first handle she sees. She doesn’t need to stand: the car is empty and there are seats all around, but she feels like if she sits, she won’t be able to get up again, might just stay there until the next Angel comes or Section 2 manages to find her.

She doesn’t remember most of the journey, or when she got off the train. She only notes the presence of others around her as she walks and the pressure that’s building in her head, like someone is pressing down hard on it. She wonders if she should tell Commander Ikari- would it matter to him, would he still try to save this iteration of Rei Ayanami?- no, she won’t tell him. Things like these will pass with time.

At last Rei reaches the somewhat familiar entrance to Misato’s apartment complex. The elevator takes her up smoothly, with none of that jolting that rattles Rei’s limbs to the point where she might collapse. She hadn’t had to wait for the elevator to come, which might mean… no, if Shinji had left already, wouldn’t he have said goodbye to her? Rei’s head throbs again, and she places a hand to her forehead. She hopes Shinji is at Misato’s still, if only so she’ll be able to talk to him and have an excuse to sit down for a long while.

It takes her a moment to notice that the elevator’s stopped moving. The world vibrates around her; she removes her hand from the rail running along the elevator interior, and suddenly it seems a foot away. She feels her way out into the hall, runs her fingers along the walls. They tremble against her fingertips, shudder with every breath she takes.

Up ahead, a door opens and someone walks out. “You’ve made up your mind, then?” Misato’s voice follows Shinji out into the hall. “You’re going?”

“Yes.” Shinji has his hands on his shoulders, gripping the straps of his backpack. Rei walks toward them, her feet soundless against the floor. “I’m leaving. I’m not going to pilot anymore. Not for… for him.”

Misato shifts her weight, and the light from the hallway behind her plays her shadow out in front of her. She’s crossed her arms over her chest, the typical stance she takes when thinking, but Rei knows it’s more than that this time. Shinji has made up his mind; nothing’s going to stop him from leaving. Likewise, Misato knows it’s useless to try to stop him. She leans back, calling into the apartment. “Asuka!” she says. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Shinji?”

“She won’t,” Shinji mumbles. “I know what she’ll say already. She’s probably disgusted with me. If she comes out, all she’ll ask me is why I’m giving up an opportunity like this.” The corners of Shinji’s mouth turn up, a soft laugh escaping him. She wouldn’t understand. She didn’t feel it with her own hands. She didn’t have to look Toji in the eye, or share the same hospital room as him. Maybe it’s good I’m leaving. I won’t have to look him in the face anymore.”

Rei stops a few feet away from Shinji, in sight of Misato. Misato turns to her, lips parting slightly in confusion. “You look like you’re doing well,” she says. Now Shinji looks at Rei, and she sees that his eyes are depthless, dead. Rei nods in acknowledgement of Misato, but cannot muster a smile. Her head pounds harder. “Are you here to say goodbye to Shinji?”

“Yes,” Rei says. Her mouth opens like a rusted hinge: slowly at first, then all at once. The sight of Shinji burns the back of her eyes. “Goodbye, Ikari.”

“Bye,” Shinji says to Rei. He steps back, out of Rei’s way, assuming she’d come to visit the apartment, that it wasn’t him that she had journeyed here for. “Take care, Ayanami.”

Rei’s stomach twists, the pressure from her head echoed double in her chest. “Yes,” she says automatically. “I will.”

“I’m going now,” says Shinji. He turns his back on Rei and Misato and walks down to the elevator. He stops, hesitates, heads for the stairs. Getting in the elevator means turning around, seeing what he’s leaving, and Shinji Ikari does not want to see anything or anyone that could remind him of EVA again.

He and his backpack disappear around a bend in the hall. When he’s gone and Rei has turned back around, Misato has disappeared, too. Rei hears her moving around in the apartment, having assumed that Rei would want to enter. Rei steps inside and shuts the door behind her. She hadn’t meant to stay, but somehow this feels like the place to be.

Misato moves around in the kitchen, fishing for a beer from the refrigerator. The door to Asuka’s room opens, and Asuka pokes her head out, surveying the apartment for signs of Shinji. “So he’s gone, is he?” she asks. Her voice sounds like it’s being raked over gravel, the lingering effect of the Thirteenth Angel upon her. “Good riddance, that idiot.”

“Asuka,” Misato says, a warning in her tone.

Asuka rolls her eyes, and when she’s done she focuses on Rei, as if noticing her there for the first time. “What’s Wonder Girl doing here?”

“I came to see Ikari,” says Rei. “I have been asleep for a while. I wished to know what happened.”

“Shinji _quit_.” Asuka leaves her door open and walks over to Rei, appraising her with sharp eyes. “What, you want the whole story?” She shakes her head, and Rei thinks she’s going to retreat back into her room, maybe stay there until she’s coaxed out by threats or by flattery. Instead Asuka grabs Rei by the wrist, and together they slip into her room, where Asuka slams the door shut behind them.

“So,” Asuka says. She walks over to the middle of the room, facing away from Rei, looking like the biggest problem in her life at this moment is deciding whether she wants to lie on her bed or sit on it. “You passed out.”

“I did. When my EVA’s limbs were disconnected-”

“I don’t need to hear that.” Asuka has settled for sitting; she throws herself down on the bed, glaring at her feet. “Well?” she demands. “You gonna sit or not?”

Rei hesitates to step closer. An explanation of what happened shouldn’t take too long to tell, but Asuka won’t start until Rei has answered her, so she goes to the edge of Asuka’s bed and rests there. Her legs dangle off the edge, toes straining to scrape against the floor. This bed sits higher than she’s used to, and it unnerves her almost as much as her growing headache.

“I didn’t see what happened,” Asuka mumbles. “The hills were in the way. After you went down, Shinji refused to fight. He was worried for the idiot in the entry plug.” Asuka’s hands grab the bedsheets, twisting them between her fingers. “It was quiet after that. No one would tell me what happened, not even Kaji. Blood started flying everywhere, and then...” Asuka grips the sheets tighter, fingers growing pale. “It got dark. The sun went down. No one came to get us. Then he started screaming.”

“Ikari?” asks Rei. “Or Suzuhara?”

“The idiot did. Shinji.” Asuka swallows visibly past a knot in her throat. “He finally saw who was in there.”

“Suzuhara-”

“He’s alive. That’s not why Shinji freaked.” Asuka falls silent again. The pressure in Rei’s head presses against the backs of her teeth. She wonders what might happen if she became sick in Asuka’s room, if Asuka would try to help her or just leave her there, somehow comforted in knowing someone is suffering more than she is. “He started screaming things,” says Asuka. “That his father made him hurt Toji with his own hands, that he felt it. Something happened, didn’t it?”

Asuka shakes her head, missing the slow tremor that works its way up Rei’s body. The world is spinning in front of Rei again, but this time it’s because she knows that it wasn’t Shinji that had hurt the Fourth Child; it was the dummy plug, it had to be. Shinji does not bathe in blood, nor are his hands marked to hurt others. Asuka does not seem to know, either. She doesn’t realize that Shinji was replaced, and now she might be, too. “Never thought he had it in him,” Asuka whispers, seemingly to herself. “I never thought he could get angry like that.”

Apparently, neither had Gendo. Rei folds her hands over her knees and tries to find herself an anchor point in the shifting blur of Asuka’s room. She finds it in the red streak of Asuka’s hair, which draws her gaze like a beacon. Asuka ignores her and slouches in place, the life draining out of her, like telling this story to Rei has taken up all the meager energy she’s stored since the Angel’s attack. “He threatened to destroy the headquarters,” Asuka says. In that sentence, Rei hears the hint of longing hidden inside it, Asuka’s unconscious desire to be free of all this. She’ll never admit aloud it to anyone, though, least of all herself.

“Did he try?” asks Rei.

“He didn’t get to. They stopped him somehow.” Asuka pulls in another long breath and releases it through her teeth. “I dunno if he really thought he could do it.”

“Maybe,” Rei says. She tries to imagine Shinji angry, and finds she cannot do it. Being driven to such a point is such a foreign idea that the only equal she can think of is Asuka and her continued rage, which she wields like a weapon. Now it’s Rei who clings to Asuka’s bed for support while her mind wanders. Rei Ayanami, she decides, will not be angry like Asuka and Shinji. The Commander is right in this aspect, that emotions will only interfere with one’s piloting. With only two pilots left, that isn’t something they can afford.

At last Asuka lifts her head and notices Rei staring at her. Rei opens her mouth, jaw working soundlessly as she tries to think of an excuse. “I did not hear you when we were fighting the Angel,” she says.

Asuka just laughs, the noise genuine and refreshing. “Of course you didn’t,” she says. “Didn’t you see that bastard choking my EVA?”

“Were you hurt badly?”

“Just sympathetic damage.” Asuka sounds more bothered by the audacity of the Angel than anything else, even Shinji leaving. “Couldn’t speak for a while.”

“When did you start recovering?”

“Yesterday night. Bet Shinji wasn’t too happy with that. Two days of silence, and then it gets ruined by someone like me.” Asuka shakes her head again, and this time Rei sees her wince, sees one of her hands twitch, as if to go and rub her throat. Asuka knows that Rei has seen; her shoulders rise, like she’s readying herself for a fight. “Since when did you start caring?”

It’s clear that Asuka expects an answer. Rei doesn’t give her one- she’s not willing to brave Asuka’s temper, even if it’s had chunks of it torn out by the Angel and Asuka’s own injured pride. “Thank you for telling me,” she says, and starts to get up.

“You know,” Asuka mutters. Her voice breaks on the second word. “You’re here already. You might as well stay, or you’ll have wasted your time.” Her mouth fits around the words awkwardly, enunciating each syllable. Rei understands what Asuka can’t bring herself to say aloud- that she’s lonely, just as Rei is, and with Shinji gone she can’t bear to be stuck in a room with just herself. Rei settles back down on the mattress, a little closer to Asuka than before.

Now would be when Asuka says something, but she doesn’t. She remains still, elbows on her knees, fingers interlocked. Her eyes say everything that she cannot; that she’s trying to work up the courage to speak, but can’t quite find it; the Angel has taken that from her, too. Rei is content to wait. Her headache has stilled and seems to have gone, and staying in this room is better than being on a swaying train or even unsteadier legs.

Finally, Asuka looks at Rei. There’s something hanging ready to drop from her lips, an admission: about Shinji perhaps, or about herself. Rei hears the quiet rush of air entering her mouth, the choked sound that Asuka’s tired throat makes.

And then she hears the wailing sirens that echo over the city in plaintive waves, shattering the moment and drawing Asuka to her feet. Misato bursts through the door a moment later, hair tied up in a hasty bun. “Angel’s been sighted approaching the city,” she says. “We just got the warning. Get in the car, we’re going.”

Asuka lunges toward the door; she’s through it and gone before Rei can even stand. Rei follows her at a distance down the stairs, gripping the rail with shaking hands. The world is beginning to spin again, the worst of it hitting her just as she slides into the back seat of Misato’s car.

She won’t be able to face the Angel like this. If she dies, she can be replaced, only she can’t be- the time it would take to train a new Rei Ayanami will far outweigh any time Rei might spend recovering, and so she cannot die, but today it feels like death is weighing her upon its scales. She looks at Asuka, seated opposite her. Shinji may be gone, but there is still someone to protect, someone who stands a better chance against the Angels than Rei. If Rei can shield her- if she can exchange her life for that of the Angel’s-

Asuka looks at Rei, and the thought passes. A new one is born: Asuka is just as uncertain as she is; the way she sits screams that she isn’t ready for this, but she’s going anyway. Slowly, without taking her eyes off Asuka, Rei extends her hand into the middle seat, palm up.

She doesn’t quite see Asuka move, but she does note the moment when Asuka pushes out a hard breath into the stillness of the car. There’s a weight settling in her hand, warm and rough, but gentle. Asuka’s fingers wrap around hers. Finally, Rei looks down. Her hand is so small nestled in Asuka’s, and if she didn’t know it was hers, she might think it wasn’t real at all.


	6. Styx

The Geofront is a scene of chaos, the entrance swarming with personnel, called abruptly from their homes. Rei imagines that below them are the rumbles of feet running across the floors, tens of stories of them, a sound similar to the barrage of artillery fire roaring throughout the city. Here in the familiar halls of NERV, Rei’s finally found an escape from the pressure that’s been hounding her all day, but only by leaping headfirst into the fire.

A team of men in uniforms is there to whisk Asuka off to Unit-02; Misato leaves for the command bridge, and Rei is left with her own escort. From what she understands, Unit-00 is still undergoing repairs from having three of its limbs severed, and she hesitates for a second. It doesn’t quite click, not immediately, that Unit-01 is vacant. Rei looks up as she realizes this. The men who comprise her guard stare back, unfazed. It doesn’t matter to them who gets into Unit-01. A pilot is a pilot, and as long as they take Rei to a working EVA, their job is done.

“Unit-02, launching,” a voice says over the launch bay speakers. Unit-02 moves back, rising slightly from the hangar floor, towards the launch catapults. Unit-01’s neck hatch slips backward, entry plug ready for Rei to get into. There’s a crystalline moment in which Rei has one foot in the plug and one foot out; Unit-02 disappears upward in a cascade of sparks; no doubt Commander Ikari is presiding over all this, but today feels like the most distant Rei’s ever seen him be.

Rei climbs the rest of the way into Unit-01. LCL floods in around her as she slogs through it to the seat, making it there just as her body is completely submerged. The initiation process begins, a dozen technicians speaking at once over each other, their voices merging and blending with the LCL. The familiarity of it should be comforting, but all Rei can feel is her heart hammering against her ribs and her lungs constricting, seemingly collapsing, choking her.

She doubles over in her seat and clamps both hands against her mouth. Rei doesn’t know whether she’s about to be sick, or if this means something else, like a spontaneous failure of this body. The Commander’s voice joins the others, and it’s all Rei can do not to clamp her eyes shut and curl up into herself. _It hurts_ , she wants to say; it hurts, and she doesn’t want to be alone.

Slats open from the sides of the plug, draining the LCL out through them. It’s clear that Unit-01 has rejected Rei, and Rei doesn’t blame it. She’d be quite sick, too: both of herself, the basis for the dummy plug, and of Gendo, whose plans keep ending with Unit-01’s hands colored with blood.

“Prepare Unit-00,” the Commander says. “And ready the dummy plug for Unit-01.” The entry plug shoots up from Unit-01’s neck, a jarring motion that turns Rei’s stomach. She finds her way to the hatch on wobbly legs, pushing herself out towards fresh air. The Commander’s plan won’t work, Rei thinks, staggering across the walkway and catching herself on the rails. The Commander doesn’t know what independent thoughts surge beneath Unit-01’s armor; he doesn’t know the dummy plug will fail. Unit-01’s only pilot is Shinji. There are no other options.

If that’s the case, then maybe the same would be true of Unit-02. Rei pulls herself up using the rails, looking across the hangar at Unit-00. It stands in its bay with its limbs grafted back on, except for its left arm, the one that took the most damage from the last Angel. There’s no one beside it, but the entry plug is open and waiting, a yawning dot of darkness in the brightly lit hangar.

The dummy plugs will fail. Driven by the thought, Rei moves towards Unit-00’s entry plug. Asuka and Shinji won’t be relegated to the same tumultuous existence of Rei’s, in which being replaced is not only a threat, but a promise.

Rei makes her way, unseen by the personnel rushing around the hangar, over to Unit-00. The EVA is humming when Rei climbs in, as if it’s known she would come to pilot it. Rei seals herself into the entry plug, LCL again raining in from above. A shudder rocks the building, distinctive and powerful: Asuka’s engaged the Fourteenth Angel. Asuka is outside in the Geofront, and she’s alone.

With one arm missing, there’s no way Unit-00 will be able to hold a pallet rifle, and from what this Angel’s withstood so far, attacking it with her progressive knife would amount to stabbing it with a toothpick. Rei directs her gaze to the armory, and Unit-00’s head swivels with it. There’s no one to stop her: everyone is focused on Asuka’s battle, like somehow their hopes can outweigh their inability to help.

Unit-00 shoves its way out of the hangar, heading for the large, rarely used armory. She knows what she’ll find there, and she knows what it will cost to use. An N2 bomb at close range will not hurt an EVA, but it will incapacitate it for a while. Rei grabs one and tucks it under her EVA’s arm, then starts toward the catapults.

Above, Asuka is struggling. She stands alone against the Angel. Rei navigates over to one of the slower launch pads, one that will accommodate the strange pose her EVA must take in order to fit both herself and the bomb through the shafts. She directs Unit-00’s head up, and there in the distance is artificial blue sky, looking too innocent, as if an Angel isn’t rampaging beneath it. Rei tightens her grip on the N2 bomb. Asuka will not have to be alone. They will fight the Angel together, and they will not yield, though as always it is Rei who will look into the face of death and tell him, _you can take me, but not Asuka. If I die, there are others who can replace me._

* * *

The Angel, boxy and tall, drops in through a hole in the city above. Asuka tracks its face, a skull-shaped mask of what appears to be bone, two dark recesses in it where eyes should be. The Angel hovers above the grassy plain that covers the Geofront floor, assessing the red EVA that stands between it and NERV.

“Come on.” Asuka clenches the pallet rifles in her EVA’s hands, presses them against Unit-02’s chest armor. The metal clatters against the armor, sending a chattering up her tensed arms. “A little closer.”

The Angel sinks towards the ground, floating into Asuka’s sights. She opens fire with both rifles at once, and the feet of her EVA carve ridges against the dirt behind her heels. Bullets arc toward the Angel, a stream of orange rain, splashing harmlessly off its body. “Damn you!” Asuka hisses, squeezing her controls harder, like the force in her hands will somehow transmit to the bullets and punch a hole in the Angel’s tough hide.

A cloud of grey smoke forms, concealing the Angel’s body. The only signs of its presence are its feet, moving inexorably, almost casually, towards the ground. “You bastard!” Asuka shouts. “The A.T. Field was supposed to be neutralized by now!” Unit-02 steps forward, pouring more gunfire at the Angel. The guns click empty a second later and are tossed to the side, crushing trees where they fall. The shroud around the Angel dissipates slowly, wisps moving up towards the hole through which the Angel entered, and still the mask stares at Asuka, not even a scratch marring its off-white surface.

“Why isn’t it dying?” Asuka whispers, grabbing for two long tubes propped upright in the soil: rocket launchers, meant to be wielded with one hand on the barrel and the other on the firing mechanism. Asuka tucks them one under each arm and lets loose, squeezing the controls again and again, an instinctive impulse now rather than a conscious decision to fire. “I can’t lose again. I won’t lose again! I won’t!”

Trees splinter and topple, pushed to the breaking point as Unit-02’s feet slide backwards through the earth, gouging out massive rifts that lead away from where it had once stood. The Angel stands motionless against the onslaught, those eyeless holes in its mask boring into the interior of Unit-02, into Asuka.

The first rocket launcher goes silent. Asuka still yanks on the trigger, pulling it incessantly, demanding that it work for her like things somehow always work out for Shinji so she can be the one to kill this Angel. Now the other rocket launcher stops firing, a final splash of red bouncing off the Angel’s body, and the Geofront is still again. Asuka looks down at the launchers under her EVA’s arms- what to do now with them, throw them?- and at last the Angel moves. Its arms, stubby, unfurl rapidly into what appear to be long ribbons. “What is this?” Asuka whispers, leaning towards the viewscreen. She shifts the rocket launchers, unwilling to let go of them, as if she thinks they might protect her- but they can do that no more than Asuka can touch the Angel.

The Angel’s arms lance out like javelins, too fast for the eye to track. They are there, spindly strands that droop and puddle on the ground, and then they are extended fully and piercing through Unit-02’s shoulders. Asuka feels herself being slammed back into the seat, but she doesn’t quite understand why. Her mind refuses to process this, holding back what pain must inevitably come for a few blissful seconds.

The arms are moving again, rippling like a wave. Asuka’s head is turned; she can see when the Angel’s flesh begins to move up from the bottom of the screen; she sees the red droplets that fly and fall, staining the trees; at last her brain works through the backlog of sensations, and she bends over, clutching at her arms as Unit-02 begins to spray blood from the stumps of its shoulders.

The Angel draws its arms back for another pass. All Asuka can think of is Unit-00, missing three of its limbs; she refuses to end up like that. She’d rather it all end here; it’d be better than having to share the same fate as that of the First Child. “Damn you!” she screams. Unit-02 charges, trailing blood for a good hundred meters, splattering it on the soil of the Geofront. She’s not the only one shouting: there’s someone’s voice on the radio, familiar, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is the Angel and not being surpassed by Rei- if she is, they won’t keep her around anymore, she’ll be replaced-

Asuka doesn’t see when the Angel strikes. She only sees the Angel’s arm growing larger in her viewscreen by the second, and by the time she realizes what she’s rushing towards, it’s too late.

There’s tearing metal, ripping flesh. The entry plug shoots forward suddenly, flinging Asuka into the side of the plug, smacking her head against the metal. She can’t tell whether it’s blood that’s on her forehead or just the LCL, but it should be better than being decapitated. Somehow, it isn't.

She’s alive, but Unit-02 is short two arms and head, and only now it hits Asuka that she was alone on the Geofront’s surface. Of course- Unit-00 wasn’t ready. Asuka lets herself fall onto her back, sprawling across the floor of the plug. There was no backup. That’s what she’d hoped for, what she’d wanted since she came to NERV, a fight where she would be the one who did everything, but she was supposed to win. It was never meant to come to something like this.

Shinji must have left the city by now, but there’s still Misato in headquarters, and Rei- Asuka doesn’t imagine the Commander would let his precious favorite out of his sight. They’re all there with an Angel headed toward them, and the Commander could get eaten by the Angel for all that Asuka cares, but the other two- she refuses to say it. She can’t say that she _cares_ , for if she does, it’ll mean the opposite of what she’s done the past week. She’s avoided Misato and done whatever that was with Rei; her hand clenches, and there’s only the LCL to be found between her fingers.

It makes her sick now: the smell of LCL, the taste. Still Asuka opens her mouth, lets it in. Somehow, this is right. This is what she chose for herself, isn’t it? Her arms are too tired to move, or maybe they’ve just stopped responding. There’s nothing for Asuka to muffle herself with as she lets a scream loose into the plug, then another, drowning out the sounds of the Angel moving past and the frantic chatter on the radio.

A single syllable pierces it all, and Asuka feels the breath torn from her throat, like the Angel had managed to hit her EVA before she was disconnected, and only now she’s feeling it. In the distance, she can hear the sound of grating metal and the faint rumble of something heavy moving. It has to be another EVA, but it can’t be Unit-01.

Asuka can’t see out of her EVA anymore, but she knows who’s out there. She wants to call to Rei, tell her to take Unit-00 and run, for if both pilots fall here, there won’t be any NERV to replace either of them. Instead she sits up and presses an ear to the side of the entry plug, straining to hear what unfolds outside.

There’s no gunfire, no sounds of rending flesh or shattering bone. She imagines Unit-00 and the Angel are at an impasse somehow, right until the world is flung sideways into her and a roar like that of a thousand trains passes overhead. The entry plug tumbles violently, and the last thing Asuka glimpses in the darkness are the control sticks flying towards her face.

* * *

Commander Ikari and Misato are trying to call her back, and Rei thinks this must be the first time they’ve ever agreed on any operational nuance. She can’t, though. Unit-00 may be partly inoperable, but she’s already on the surface; the Angel has seen her. Rei wonders briefly if she could lure the Angel away, using herself as bait, but it’s a risk she can’t take. If she moves out of position and the Angel doesn’t follow her, there won’t be anything to stop it from reaching the buildings before Unit-00 can catch it.

The Angel bears down on her, advancing slowly over the trees. Rei tightens Unit-00’s grasp on the N2 bomb, holding it like Asuka had held the rocket launchers under her arms. She must do this. She can be replaced- no, she can’t, not immediately- but the loss of one pilot far will far outweigh the multitude of lives in the NERV facility.

Rei pushes the controls forward on Unit-00 and begins to run towards the Angel. It receives her with an honor not bestowed to Asuka: an A.T. Field, unfolding into Rei’s path, stopping the N2 bomb that descends towards the Angel’s core.

“A.T. Field to maximum,” Rei whispers. There was a time she’d said these words before, under the canopy of an Angel falling from above, only then she’d had Asuka and Shinji by her side. It’s just her now, but she finds the idea comforting. Asuka and Shinji won’t have to know what happened; Shinji is gone, and Asuka will just be told she was hurt, but not killed, and another clone will continue on.

The Angel’s A.T. Field buckles enough for Rei to slip the bomb through, a gap just wide enough for the bomb and Unit-00’s hand. She thrusts it toward the Angel’s core just as it goes off. She knows something covered the core at the last second, but then she’s being blown back; the LCL is heating up around her, and it’s the Fifth Angel all over again. Shinji isn’t behind her this time- Asuka is, but she’s incapacitated. Unit-00 is burning up with Rei inside it, and no one will be coming to her; there's no one left to-

Twenty agonizing seconds later, the thunder subsides. Rei Ayanami impossibly clings to life, but darkness lurks at the edges of her vision. Another moment, and Unit-00 is sent flying onto its back, swatted aside by the Angel. Rei’s teeth knock together as her head slams hard into the seat. The world lies on its side on Unit-00’s viewscreen, pointed in just the right direction to see the Angel continue its advance towards NERV.

Rei reaches out towards the controls, towards the Angel. Her hand falls limp on the seat as her body slides to the floor, red eyes sightless and glassy.

In the darkness that follows, she dreams. The images she remembers are disjointed, scraps of memory and vision and hope tied together by the frayed, poorly-spun string of her own desires. There is Shinji, his smile; there is Asuka, the memory of them touching; she tries to delve deeper, to remember more, but then her eyes are opening and the world is calling to her again.

The false sky has gone dark. Unit-01 towers over the trees on all fours, ghastly white eyes staring over the landscape. Its mouth is dripping with red; the Angel lies on its back before it, and Rei sees where the core once was is now a mass of bones and tangled skeins of flesh, turned delicate before savage hands.

Unit-01 begins to rise. It finds its balance on trembling legs and opens its jaws wide, roars into the night. Its cry rings over the Angel’s body; it must reach up into the city above, a sound as terrible as the Angel sirens and far more sinister. Again the ground is soaked with Angel blood.

Rei’s vision grows grey again. The EVA continues to roar, but it sounds fainter now. Its cry is replaced by the slow, steady throb of pain against Rei’s temples and the painful gasps that accompany every breath. The sight of Unit-01 must mean Shinji has returned, that he’s alright- Unit-02 stands where it fell, slumped at the waist. There’s been no word from Asuka since her EVA was decapitated, and no rescue teams would have gone out with the fight still raging. Asuka- she might not be alive. Rei crawls over to the seat and presses herself up against it, resting her head on one of the controls. It shifts as she tries to place her weight against it. Unit-02 hadn’t done that, she thinks, not during that one time in the crater. Now Unit-02 is armless, but Unit-00 still has one. Rei wishes she could go over, hold Asuka’s EVA up somehow, so it doesn’t look so pathetic- the darkness swims before her eyes- again it’s quiet, but this time all her dreams are of Asuka, silent and bloodied, and no matter how Rei holds her, she does not wake.

* * *

For Rei, the word hospital does not evoke the image of waiting rooms and scrub-clad doctors. Her idea of a hospital is a single room and a ceiling light whose flickering has gotten progressively worse over the months. At least this time they’ve bothered to change the bedsheets, but that was only done because Shinji had stayed there the time before.

Outside, the hall is silent. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around, not even doctors or nurses. Rei finds herself wondering if this might be all that’s left of the world, a single room and a bed and a window to let in the sun.

Somehow, she’s still alive. That’s two battles in a row now that she’s been hurt and passed out in the entry plug. Why the Commander hasn’t replaced her still is a mystery that, it seems, will remain unanswered. If he’s keeping her here, there must be some worth left to her. She remembers the Commander wrestling her entry plug open, the burns on his hands that plagued him for weeks. He must want the full worth of what he invested into Rei: her loyalty, until she shows him that it’s petered out and run dry, and then he’ll have no more reason to want this specific Rei alive.

Rei sits up, the bed creaking beneath her, and touches a hand to her head. There’s no trace of injury, or of the headache that had plagued her… it’s been how many days, now? A scan of the room tells her nothing. There’s just the familiar half-full glass of water placed by her bedside and the light coming in from the window; outside the city is still standing, so something must have gone right.

She begins to swing her legs to the edge of the bed, and the familiar stabbing of pain that eluded her thus far finally finds her. She presses her arms to her stomach, sliding back down until she’s flat on the bed, staring at that flickering light. They really should change it. It’s tired, worn out, not unlike her. For a moment, Rei wishes that it wasn’t her lying in that bed, but the next Rei Ayanami; let her be the one to fight the final Angels and talk to Shinji and Asuka; she would do a better job, for she wouldn’t be exhausted by constant rejection-

And Asuka would still remember her, if she’s alive. She has to be, but if she hasn’t come to visit yet- no, Rei tells herself, Asuka wouldn’t visit. It’s not like her to. Asuka avoids hospitals and pristine places and well-lit halls; Asuka wouldn’t be seen worrying by the First Child’s bedside when there’s her own reputation she has to tend to.

Already Rei can see what’s going to happen. It’ll be a week, or more, until she’ll be released. Until then, life will return to the slow crawl of time refusing to move, of days spent lying there and answering the same questions asked by doctors every day. She wonders if she might lie to try and get out, if they’d catch it. They might, and they’d tell the Commander. It’s not an option.

The ceiling light gives a final effort and shorts out at last. Now it’s nothing more than a long tube, cooling down before its inevitable rest, buried somewhere in a trash heap on the outskirts of the city; something like that. Rei Ayanami does not shiver. She pulls her blanket closer to her to counter the chill on her skin, and wonders if someone’s turned on the air for this part of headquarters.

* * *

Misato’s apartment has been quiet more days than not since the Fourteenth Angel attacked. Shinji’s gone, and Misato’s been at NERV working to try and bring him back. Asuka has no memory of what happened beyond what she now knows was an explosion; Misato isn’t telling her anything beyond _Shinji’s not with us_ and _we’re trying to get him back_.

He wasn’t in the hospital wing when Asuka was there, that’s for certain. The First Child is there, too, sleeping in a room all by herself. She’d looked peaceful the last time Asuka poked her head in, before she was discharged; somehow, Asuka notes bitterly, this fits with everything else that’s happened in the week that’s since passed. It would be Rei out of everyone who wasn’t bothered by the Angel’s attack, because _if she died, she could be replaced_ ; wasn’t that right?

Asuka knows that isn’t true. She’d felt the way Rei held on to her during the car ride to NERV. She knows they were both shaking, but Rei was the one with the blank stare and that look of not being all there, of having resigned to a seemingly inevitable fate.

If it was Rei who they’d lost, her who suffered whatever mysterious affliction has befallen Shinji, Asuka knows NERV wouldn’t be trying so hard to recover her. Maybe they wouldn’t even try at all. So the Commander’s precious pet isn’t so valued once she’s broken, just like a favored toy- like a doll-

Asuka shifts upon her bed, shaking her head. It’d be easier to ignore it all, to keep pretending that Rei is the favored one, that Asuka can loathe her for being so, but she knows the truth now. She’s known it for a while, just refused to let herself believe it. Shinji is the one who’d be retrieved; the same effort would not be put towards saving Rei or Asuka, because they’re both replaceable. It’s why Asuka’s been left alone in her room, why the only visits Rei gets are the mandatory ones by the hospital staff.

Suddenly, she wants to go. She wants to return to the hospital wing and find her way to Rei. Asuka pushes herself up off the bed, taking a few steps towards the door. Her body tells her, screams at her, that she won’t make it. Her arms are too weak to catch her should she fall; her sense of balance is still off, and she’d be moving far too slowly to make it anywhere beyond a few blocks before darkness fell.

She’s not in the hospital any longer, but this place she calls ‘home’ is a prison just like it. Asuka turns and lashes out at her dresser, its drawers slightly open: her hands aren’t strong enough to grip anything tightly yet. Folded clothes fly into the air and unfurl as they land, covering the floor. It’s not enough. Nothing is ever enough. Asuka whips her arm around and sweeps everything from her desk, shoving it to the floor. Papers flutter into the still air and rest gently on books with crumpled pages and crumbling spines. Still not enough. Asuka grabs the covers from her bed, lifts them over her shoulders.

A sliver of pain shoots up her arm, trivial, miniscule enough to be ignored. Asuka stops anyway. She’s standing in her room, surrounded by the mess she’s made, her bed sheets balled up over her head and ready to be tossed. What had she expected them to do? They don’t weigh anything; the most she’d do is get them dusty. Asuka lowers her arms, drops the sheets back onto her bed. With tired eyes she surveys her room and the things she’ll have to put right: not tomorrow, just some time before Misato notices, if Misato even bothers to check on her at all. In essence, never. Asuka could continue on in the puddles of clothing and paper, and the only thing that would change that is Shinji. If Shinji ever comes back, he’ll notice; Misato will notice, and she’ll make Asuka clean everything up.

It all comes back to Shinji. Asuka flings herself back onto the bed, bouncing once, and pain flares everywhere in her body like a flame coming to life. She doesn’t have much voice left to scream- she’d spent it shouting at the Angel, at the medical staff, now at herself- but she does anyway. She screams until she runs empty and buries her face into her pillow, a hand against her throat to protect the tatters of her voice, a useless sentimental gesture. She knows there won’t be anyone to talk to her, but it hurts her less to pretend that she might need to save her voice anyway.

* * *

Gendo’s office is the one part of NERV that never changes, and never might. It’s the one place in NERV where it could be said that SEELE’s will does not penetrate. Here Fuyutsuki stands in front of Gendo’s desk, arms clasped neatly behind his back, a gesture unfitting of a professor, though he’s long since turned his back on that. “Have you heard from SEELE lately?” he asks.

“No,” Commander Ikari says. He reaches for his glasses and removes them, polishes them with the edge of his coat. An odd thing, this: Fuyutsuki is one of the only people who’s seen Gendo with his glasses off; the others would be Rei, and possibly, if his suspicions are correct, Doctor Akagi. “We have received no communication at all.”

“Has it occurred to you that they’re withholding the details of the next Angel so you’ll be forced to comply with their plan?”

“It is a distinct and likely possibility.” Gendo replaces his glasses and folds his hands neatly on his desk. Such an odd pose- his son is missing, gone in Unit-01; Rei is still in the hospital and the Second Child shows signs of deteriorating, but here is Gendo with nothing to show on his face and his somehow impeccably clean gloves. “I remain confident that we will receive some warning. SEELE’s plans still rely on all the Angels being defeated.”

“The pilots, sir.”

“The pilots will be ready before the next fight. However, I will take your advice under consideration and think of some backup plans.”

“Would those include contingencies for if the Third Child cannot be recovered?”

For the first time in recent memory, Gendo hesitates to speak. He reaches for his glasses again, then stops, as if he’s remembered he’d only just wiped them. “I remain confident in Doctor Akagi’s ability.”

“You need these plans, Ikari.”

“Then they will be made.” Gendo places his hand back down and looks at the old professor. Fuyutsuki thinks he might even be glaring this time. “That will be all.”

Fuyutsuki doesn’t bother with pleasantries as he departs. Over fourteen years of working together have worn away the need for casual politeness; the only thing that concerns him is the workings of Gendo’s plan, and by extension, Yui’s. “I wonder,” Fuyutsuki murmurs to himself as he steps out of Gendo’s office and into the cold hallway outside. “Who is it you’re trying to recover, Ikari? Your son, or the pilot of Unit-01?”

He knows the answer already, and he doesn’t think Yui would like it. Of course, Yui would just have to tell Gendo that herself. Fuyutsuki isn’t doing himself any favors with this, but he’s already accepted that Yui would never have chosen him. As long as he sees her again, though, it doesn’t really matter what she’ll think of him or Gendo. Just having her there, her plan complete, would be a reward enough to replace the imagined future he never had.

* * *

This must be the longest any pilot has stayed in NERV’s hospital wing, Asuka thinks. Rei’s been there for two weeks, and it looks like it might become three, if only because there hasn’t been any news that Rei has been released.

Misato is still gone, working long hours at NERV. Asuka’s fairly sure that she doesn’t even come home some nights. She can tell the ones when she does; when Asuka wakes up the kitchen table will be stacked with empty beer cans and the sink will be half-filled with unwashed dishes. Asuka cleans them- it’s something to do- but the naive portion of her that thought Misato might notice and thank her has long since abandoned that hope. Asuka does the dishes now to feel the warmth of water on her skin, anything that isn’t the chill that pervades both Shinji’s room and hers, and probably Misato’s.

But today, she’s left all that behind. She’s made the trip to NERV on legs that are sore but functional, braving the shadows of a city that still has a gaping hole near the center of it. She’d had to pass by it on the way to the Geofront entrance. There was a tarp draped over it that sagged whenever the wind gusted; there was no one around it staring or working on it, and if not for her aching body and the weeks she’d spent recovering, Asuka might have thought the attack was just a dream that came too close to touching reality.

Asuka leans back against the wall of the elevator as it takes her to the hospital level, feeling the vibrations of the metal beneath her skin. It reminds her of the humming of her EVA, the harmonization of brain waves and electrical pulses. The image of Unit-02 paints her mind, headless and armless and pitiful, and it doesn’t register immediately to her that the elevator is slowing, stopping.

She staggers through the open doors just as they begin to shut. A quiet ding, and the elevator retreats down the shaft, leaving her at the cross section of three identical halls. This feels too familiar: the brightness, the smell, the sense of knowing which way to go, but wishing she didn’t. It might be different this time, Asuka thinks, she _prays_. She’s here to visit Rei, and though Asuka knows now that Rei was right all along, they’re both replaceable, that feeling somehow manages to fade whenever she’s with Rei.

Rei’s room is in the middle of one of the halls, marked by a piece of tape on the door with her last name on it. The tape, new when Asuka had first come, is dog-eared and nearly falling off. She wonders if someone had tried to rip it off or if it’s just wearing down, much like Rei is, like Asuka.

Asuka knocks. There’s no answer from inside. Rei might be asleep, or just thought she’d imagined it. Asuka knows all too well the tricks the human ear can play, those sounds that weren’t really there, expressions of her desire not to be alone. She waits a little longer- five heartbeats, ten- then turns the handle and walks in.

The bed has clearly been occupied; its sheets are set to one side, but there’s no sign of Rei. She’s come too late, then. Rei must be gone, released at last. It means she’ll have backup if another Angel should come, but instead of the relief that Asuka knows she should feel, there’s a weight tugging at her stomach, making her want to curl up and not reveal herself to the world again.

Something clatters in a place Asuka can’t quite locate. She feels like there are eyes on the back of her head and turns. Rei is emerging from the bathroom, accompanied by a nurse who holds Rei’s arm where her hospital gown meets her shoulder. Rei stops, mouth opening slightly, as if she's wondering whether Asuka is really there.

“Pilot Soryu.” The nurse regards Asuka inquisitively. “Is there something wrong?”

“I…” Asuka falters, unable to do much more than stare at Rei for several long seconds. “I’m here to see her. The First.”

The nurse’s eyebrows knit together, looking distinctly hawk-like. “Did Commander Ikari send you?”

“No. I’m here by myself. I want to talk about the fight.” Asuka directs her gaze at Rei and sees her quail under it. She doesn’t so much step to the side, away from Asuka’s line of sight, as slump; some parts of her skin look red, like the heat from the shower she’s taken has chosen to linger on the newer patches of skin that have grown to replace what was burned off by the explosion.

“I see,” says the nurse, as if somehow the reason Asuka wants to see Rei will matter in whether Asuka gets to stay or not. “I’ll help her to the bed, and then you may speak with her. Do keep in mind she needs rest, though.”

“It’ll be quick.”

With the nurse’s help, Rei manages to hobble over to her bed and hoist herself onto it with shaking arms. It reminds Asuka of her own movements: tentative, uncertain. The nurse doesn’t leave until Rei has tucked herself in and situated herself against the pillow, where she stares at the ceiling, avoiding Asuka.

Asuka goes over to her, pulling a chair up to her bed. “You came,” Rei whispers, her voice nearly lost in the sound of metal legs scraping on tiles. “I did not think anyone would.”

“I made a promise, didn’t I?” Asuka doesn’t manage to fully suppress the rolling of her eyes, but Rei misses it anyway. She keeps staring at this one light on the ceiling, apparently burnt out. “I wouldn’t forget about you like that.”

“I would not fault you if you had,” Rei says. Asuka takes this for what it really means: that not even the Commander has bothered to check on her.

“About Shinji… have you heard?”

“What happened?”

“He’s…” Asuka pauses. She doesn’t quite know how to articulate his fate. Being absorbed into an entry plug is something strange and unheard of. “They said he entered a 100% sync ratio. The LCL absorbed him. He turned into LCL. Something like that.”

“I see.” Somehow, Rei doesn’t sound surprised. She gets startled by Asuka visiting, but not by the news of Shinji. It’s almost uncanny, that. Asuka turns her gaze aside. Looking at Rei right now stirs up the unpleasant feeling of her own apathy, something she doesn’t want to remember. Her eyes fall upon a plastic hair brush, small and littered with the occasional blue hair. Asuka’s hand closes around the handle and brings the brush up to Rei’s head.

“Soryu.” Rei turns to look at her at last. “What are you doing?”

“You just showered. Someone has to do this.”

“My hair is short. I will not have any difficulty brushing it later.”

“Just-” Asuka begins. She doesn’t know what she was going to say. _Shut up_ , maybe. Or, _let me help you_. Something like that: something raw, emotional, stupid. Her hand begins to dip towards the table. Rei nods and sits up, allowing Asuka to reach the back of her head. She’s understood that this is something Asuka needs to do, an apology for failing to stop the Angel in the Geofront.

“Will Ikari come back?” Rei asks.

“They’re trying to get him,” says Asuka. “Misato and Akagi and everyone. Guess they realize they need him more than he needs any of us. A hundred percent sync ratio.” Asuka’s voice goes soft; her hands pause briefly in Rei’s hair. “I never had a chance to beat him, did I?”

“That is not what matters. You are here.”

“Yeah, only because he beat the Angel!”

“I did not mean it that way.” Rei turns her red eyes upon Asuka. They are knowing, somehow ancient despite the youthfulness of her face. “You are _here_.”

“With you,” Asuka says, unnecessarily. Rei does not answer, but moves her head so Asuka can brush the far side, and when that’s done she lies back down, adjusting her pillow so it cushions her neck.

“They said you tried to blow it up with an N2 mine.” Asuka puts the brush back down and slumps in her seat, not knowing what to do now. “They said you tried to turn it away from me.”

“NERV requires at least one pilot to be functional.”

“You didn’t have to do that. They’d get a lot more use out of you than me.”

“Soryu,” Rei says. Asuka thinks she’s just being sympathetic until she feels something prodding at her knee, weak but persistent: Rei’s hand. Asuka places her hand in Rei’s and again feels the familiar warmth of Rei’s fingers against it. This gesture says everything that Rei cannot: that she wants Asuka to stay, that maybe it won’t matter if Shinji gets retrieved or not as long as both of them are here together.

“I can’t stay,” Asuka says, and Rei’s face begins to fall. “Not overnight. But I’ll stay as long as I can.” She squeezes Rei’s hand, hopes that comes off as comforting. She wouldn’t really know. Kyoko never held her hand. “I can come back tomorrow, too.”

“I… intend to sleep.” Rei’s thumb grazes the tops of Asuka’s knuckles. “You do not have to stay for long.”

“It’s not like I have anything to do.” With her other hand, Asuka adjusts the covers near Rei’s head, pulling them down slightly. She’s said all she needs to, and knows Rei will understand the rest. Asuka is here not because she’s bored, but because there’s no other place she would want to be other than here. It’s not the hospital she’s come for, but Rei. “Just rest.”

Rei lets out what might be called a hum and shuts her eyes, though she does not draw her hand back under the covers. Asuka holds it, watching the clockwork motion of Rei’s chest slow and fall into a distinctive pattern, indicating she’s fallen asleep. At last Asuka removes her fingers from Rei’s, carefully, hoping that Rei might not notice she’s gone and feel compelled to wake.

Asuka slips out of the room, shutting the door behind her with a quiet thump. The humming from before fills her ears, the sounds of air conditioning and electricity. Layered above them are footsteps: distant, growing closer as Asuka walks towards the elevator.

She rounds the corner, and Misato is there, having just gotten off the elevator. She looks like she hadn’t expected to see Asuka there, or maybe it’s just Misato’s mind taking the time to confirm Asuka’s appearance after having not seen her in weeks.

“Shinji,” Asuka says. Her voice comes out harder than she’d wanted it to. The topic of the Third Child is still a sore one with her, when brought up between the two of them. “Are you close to getting him back?”

Misato averts her eyes and keeps walking. Asuka follows her with her stare until Misato vanishes around a corner, no doubt heading for Doctor Akagi’s office. When she’s gone, her footsteps linger and keep Asuka rooted in place, and when these finally dissipate Asuka leans against the nearest wall and lets it hold her up.

They’re no closer to recovering Shinji than Asuka is to having any hope of becoming the best pilot again. She’s known this, refused to acknowledge it, and now she must. She’ll have to settle for the paradox of being second-best and yet needed, and this new one of the Commander needing her more than Rei. Maybe that’s always been the case and she’s just never seen it; maybe Rei had known, and that’s why she’d said she was replaceable.

Asuka wants to turn and go back to Rei, wake her and apologize and try and take back everything she’d said, but Rei needs her rest. Asuka will instead make her way to the elevator as soon as her limbs feel strong enough. She’ll trudge back to Misato’s apartment, making it there at sundown, and spend the night in a room that she thinks is colder than the one Rei’s in, and infinitely more lonely.

* * *

It’s been nearly a month, and Rei Ayanami is free to go at last. There should be some novelty in standing beneath the sun and breathing in fresh air, but she can’t find it during the walk to her apartment, and it isn’t to be found in the courtyard, nor on the walkways overlooking it. Compared to her hospital room, Rei’s apartment looks pitch black; the bandages she’d left on her bed have turned the color of fading rust, and she brushes them off uneasily.

She knows from what Asuka and Shinji have told her that the act of coming home is something that should be celebrated, or at least commemorated by relaxing. Rei lies on her bed and feels the mattress creak beneath her, hard springs poking up at her delicate skin. This doesn’t feel right. Nothing has felt right since Asuka told her what happened to Shinji. The world has shifted; she wouldn’t be surprised if the Commander’s plan has shifted too, the first change in years. Rei hasn’t been informed of any deviations yet, so maybe it’s not inevitable- just looming, pretending to be.

But if he’s gone and can’t come back- if, for once, the Commander fails- it’ll be just her and Asuka left to pilot. Rei rolls onto her side and tugs the red ribbon from her uniform shirt free, winding it around her fingers. It’ll be her and Asuka against the remaining Angels, and if she dies- she most certainly will have to, in order to keep the Commander’s plans in motion- only Asuka will be left to remember who she was.

She could abandon the plan. She could, but then SEELE would be the one to succeed in initiating Instrumentality, and the world would suffer for it, and Asuka, and Shinji’s soul. There is no alternative. There has never been one, only the illusion of a choice. Rei clenches the ribbon tightly, pulling it taut with both hands. She no longer hates red, she realizes. She hadn’t realized the change until now, or even thought of it, but now everything seems to be clear. Rei knows where she must go to find what will rekindle the life inside her, what will put these persistent thoughts of the future to rest.

Ribbon in hand, Rei stands and walks out the door, taking nothing with her. She takes the stairs, walks through the sun-dappled courtyard, walks until the lonely apartment blocks turn into high rises and flats and shops. She walks with a single destination in mind, much like how she imagines Asuka must pilot, with dogged determination.

It doesn’t occur to her until she’s reached Misato’s apartment that no one will answer her. Asuka might be out; she might be sleeping. Rei lifts her hand and knocks on the door with her palm, listens for an answer. The door opens a moment later, and Asuka’s face stares down at her from the crack between the door and the wall. She steps to the side, opening the door further to let Rei in. She doesn’t have to say anything, no greeting or welcome. Rei has always been welcome here, only she never realized it; Shinji and Asuka never told her, and the Commander never said it was an option.

* * *

“They let you out,” is the first thing Asuka says when they reach her room. Asuka’s pushed the things she threw to the floor to the walls and under her bed. There isn’t much reason to care for them, she thinks, since she can’t even take care of herself. “Don’t you think it’s kind of pathetic? They let you out, and your first reaction is to come running to me.”

“I am… sorry?” Rei says.

“Did they tell you they’re going to try and bring Shinji back tomorrow?” asks Asuka. Rei shakes her head and goes to stand by Asuka’s desk while Asuka throws herself on top of her bed, limbs spread out like a starfish. “Course they wouldn’t,” she mutters. “Misato didn’t even tell me. I found out by reading her papers.”

“I see,” Rei says. Asuka’s eyes are on her, watching, observing her every move. It’s a scrutiny that feels like the Commander’s; she blanches under it, looks as though she hopes she might fade from existence.

“You’re jumpy today.” Asuka pushes her bed sheets to the side and lets her arms splay out across the mattress. Rei wonders if it’s soft, or if it’s just as rickety as the one back in her apartment. “Something bothering you? Shinji?” The name comes out, not as a question but a challenge: _I dare you, Rei Ayanami,_ Asuka seems to be saying, _to say to my face that Shinji Ikari means more to you than I do._

“It is not that,” Rei says. She sees Asuka roll her eyes- it’s not enough to simply say it. She’ll have to elaborate. “You held my hand.”

“So?”

“Since then, I have been thinking. You told me that I should… open up and feel. I have, and it hurts.” Asuka is watching intently, no longer playing with the bed sheets, but completely still. She doesn’t know about the Commander’s plan, but she’s picking up on what Rei has trouble putting names to: the isolation stemming from this burden of knowledge, her dread of the inevitable. “I have tried,” Rei whispers. Her hands brush across Asuka’s desk, pushing through a thin layer of dust. “I’ve _tried_.”

There’s a creak as Asuka gets up, walking towards Rei. Rei tries to take a step back and finds the desk digging into the small of her back. Asuka reaches for her, around her. Their bodies bump together, and Asuka’s breath passes the side of Rei’s neck, warm and slow. She holds Rei against her with a tenderness that Rei has never felt from anyone and could not have expected, least of all from Asuka. Rei lifts her arms, leaves them hovering awkwardly around Asuka’s waist, uncertain if this gesture is one that’s meant to be reciprocated, or purely one-sided.

It seems like it could be either, or even both. There are no words for the way Asuka lays her cheek against Rei’s shoulder, that can describe their slow, dance-like journey back to Asuka’s bed. Asuka doesn’t lead them, for once. She presses on Rei’s hips and Rei turns in the direction Asuka wants; Asuka follows with heavy steps, lumbering after her. They inch around the foot of the bed and the clutter scattered near it, a joined mess of limbs and warmth; Rei notices a knot in the red tangle of Asuka’s hair and reaches for it. Her fingers tug, and the knot comes free.

Asuka’s legs brush against the bed frame, and she lets go. She draws herself back and falls onto the bed, like it has its own field of gravity that Asuka only briefly escaped. She doesn’t look at Rei, and it seems like she’s ready to close her eyes and curl up and sleep, as if nothing had happened, as if Rei had chosen to walk over rather than being pulled here.

“Soryu?” Rei says. Asuka’s head twitches to the side, a visual act of listening. Rei tries to find the question inside her, produces only a very quiet “What…”

“That’s a hug.” Asuka’s voice does not sound like her own. It seems to come from an Asuka who’s infinitely older and tired, and yet it still sounds right coming from the mouth of a thirteen year old girl. Almost fourteen, Rei realizes: Asuka’s birthday is tomorrow. She should do something- “What do you feel now?” Asuka says.

“Feel?” asks Rei. She hadn’t noticed when Asuka started to look directly at her. Those eyes look far too bright and hopeful; Rei wonders if this might be how Asuka would have looked had she not chosen to pilot EVA. “Warm,” she says at last. “I am warm. I feel like I am no longer alone.”

She might have imagined the smile that flashes like lightning over Asuka’s face. She doesn’t knows it’s not her imagination when Asuka pats the space on the bed beside her, telling Rei to sit down. Rei obeys, sitting as close to the edge as she can without falling, giving Asuka the space she needs. Asuka frowns and pats the bed again, calling her closer. It’s like they’ve entered into a little game: Asuka beckoning Rei, Rei shifting closer each time, until Asuka finally stops and the space between them is so miniscule that their shoulders are nearly touching.

“Stay here,” Asuka whispers. She drapes her fingers partway over Rei’s hand, as if hoping to keep her there by force of suggestion. “Tomorrow we’ll go see what happens with Shinji.”

“I am capable of returning to my residence. You do not need to burden yourself.”

“Stay,” repeats Asuka. Her fingers press a little harder into Rei’s hand. Rei looks at her carefully, at their hands.

“Do you offer because it is convenient?” she asks. “Or are you like me?”

“Like you? How would I ever be like you?”

“I no longer wish to be alone.”

Asuka draws her hand back, mouth twisting bitterly. “Shut up,” she says. She doesn’t mean it, Rei realizes. It’s a reflex, like the jerking of a knee, like a turtle drawing back into its shell if threatened. There’s no easy way to reach her: she’ll come out when she’s ready.

“I will stay,” Rei tells her. Asuka pulls her legs over the side of the bed and lies down, placing herself against the wall. She wants one of two things, though what it is Rei isn’t sure: either Asuka wants her here, or she wants her to find another place to rest. “Soryu?” Rei says, and Asuka rolls over to look at her. “Where do you want me to stay?”

“Where do you think?”

“The couch?” she offers. “Ikari’s bed?”

“No, and definitely no.” Asuka sounds like she’s laughing quietly as she pulls the covers up around her, lifting the corner closer to Rei. “If you fell off and got hurt or something, you know who’s going to get the blame.”

“That is not-”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

There would be no use in pointing out that of the both of them, it’s Asuka who speaks more. Rei climbs into the bed, allowing Asuka to fix the covers over her, but does not shut her eyes. Asuka has; already she looks like she might be asleep, like her waking mind has been teetering on the edge of slumber for the entire time she’s been talking to Rei.

Rei shifts beneath the blankets, hand wandering in a slow zig-zag pattern. She feels Asuka’s hand and locks their fingers together, the touch kindling a warmth in her chest. Asuka doesn’t pull away, or even seem to react at all. Rei hadn’t expected her to. Even this prolonged contact is a victory in her mind. Rei redirects her gaze to Asuka’s face; no longer are Asuka’s eyes closed. She watches Rei, following her every move, as if they are joined now not only by their hands, but by their souls as well.

* * *

Rei’s forgotten what she remembered the day before, and she’s only just remembered it again. The subject of a birthday doesn’t seem to be something that should be brought up on the scaffolding overlooking Unit-01, and so she waits, her gaze alternating between watching Unit-01 and Asuka.

“Almost time,” Asuka mutters. Below, Misato walks across the umbilical bridge in front of Unit-01’ chest. “We’re finally getting the idiot back today.” Aska doesn’t sound so excited; it’s more like she’s tired, like she’s wishing she hadn’t gotten up today. Below, Misato is speaking into a handheld radio.

“Send the first signals,” she says.

From within the EVA come the familiar sounds of systems being powered up, and Unit-01 stiffens slightly, the only sign that it’s been awakened from its patient and perpetual slumber. Misato paces the bridge from one of Unit-01’s arms to the other, waiting. Asuka, Rei notices, has begun to cling to the scaffold rail so tightly that her hands are pale and shaking. Rei has never truly been helpless: she’s always had backup, or Commander Ikari, or the knowledge that she might be replaced at any time. This is the closest to helplessness that Rei Ayanami might ever feel.

The EVA’s eyes light up, and the entry plug of Unit-01 shoots into the air, spewing LCL from its vents. Asuka’s head snaps up; Misato drops her radio and runs to the center of the bridge, staring up at the EVA. She stands there, knees trembling, as the entry plug slowly locks into the ‘boarding’ position. Rei is suddenly struck by a knowledge of what will happen next: the entry plug will reveal only a gaping emptiness; there will be no Third Child to recover, for he’s finally left this world that doesn’t want or appreciate him. There will be no return or reunion, and Rei will not be able to say those words she’d meant for Asuka, for life and death are things that are only spoken of together at funerals.

Asuka looks away from the walkway below. The limp, white form of Shinji’s plugsuit has slid from the entry plug and now lies draped in Misato’s arms. Misato presses the side of her face to the plugsuit, tears dripping and mixing with the sheen of LCL that still clings to it. Her mouth is moving, words are leaving it, but Rei doesn’t hear them over the buzzing that’s suddenly plaguing her ears. She’s anticipated, but not quite readied herself for this reality that’s inescapably arrived.

“Useless,” Asuka is saying. Rei wonders if it’s Akagi that Asuka is referring to. Or- her stomach twists, and that feeling akin to fear is back- what if Asuka means herself?

“Soryu,” Rei says, but Asuka is already too far away to hear her. Below, Misato lets out a hollow, wounded cry and clings tighter to the plugsuit. Now Rei extends a hand to clutch the rail, the metal cool and firm beneath her fingers. It seems to be the only solid thing in this world at the moment. Asuka has nearly reached the doors when the core of Unit-01 begins to glow a brilliant crimson, clearly visible in spite of the florescent lights above.

Only Rei sees the core move. A single line runs down the center, dividing the core into two segments that pull back, exposing more light. From there emerges a shape, taking the form of an arm, then another. Shinji slides headfirst from the gap, his eyes still shut, and lands gently on the umbilical bridge.

“Soryu,” Rei says again, urgently. She points to the bridge as Asuka whirls around, eyes narrowed. Asuka scowls, but comes back, knocking shoulders with Rei as she leans over the rail. She looks upon Shinji, her face impassive, but the thin line of her mouth betrays the words she must be thinking. Shinji has come back, and now there won’t be any use for her, not when the positions of ‘best’ and ‘favored’ pilot have been filled.

“I bet you’re happy that he’s back, aren’t you?” Asuka turns her back on Unit-01, leaning on the rail. “Don’t bother answering that. I know you are. You’re smiling. If he woke up and looked at you, I think you might die. It’s sickening.”

Rei lifts a hand to touch her mouth; indeed, Asuka is right. Asuka rolls her eyes and pushes herself off the rail, taking long strides towards the exit. “Soryu,” Rei calls after her. “Soryu, wait.”

Asuka has no intention of waiting. She’s at the doors already, and Rei suspects the only way she’ll ever catch up to Asuka is if she runs. The Second Child disappears through the double doors, no doubt headed for the elevator. Rei, torn between following her and waiting for Shinji, wobbles on unsteady legs. Asuka should be fine, she thinks; Asuka has Hikari, and now that Shinji has returned Misato should also be going back to her apartment tonight. Shinji will have no one to wait by his bed until he wakes, and so Rei will task herself with that.

Misato’s sobs have not yet ceased. She’s crawled over to Shinji’s side, clinging to him like Rei imagines a mother would her child. At last, a realization. Asuka has always said that Rei wasn’t replaceable. Rei had thought it camaraderie, or at least a form of human decency. It never occurred to her that it might be something else, that all along _Asuka_ has been the replaceable one of the three.

Below, a medical crew has reached Unit-01 and are loading Shinji onto a gurney. Rei feels her knees about to give and leans against the rail, watching the process. Misato tails behind the doctors and nurses, Shinji’s plugsuit still in her hands. She feels her legs straightening against her will, the robotic nature of what the First Child was supposed to be taking over again. She walks out of the EVA bay, following the sound of clattering wheels. It isn’t Asuka who’s just been spat out of an EVA core; Shinji is the injured one, and the bonds of piloting and friendship dictate that Rei should be next to him when he awakens.

The doctors take Shinji into a room and Misato she must leave while they work. Rei stations herself outside the door, ready to wait as she’s done before. She hears nothing from inside- she never does- but in a way, the silence is comforting. Anything other than this, like running feet or incessant beeping, would mean something had gone wrong.

In the middle of this comes a thought, one that strikes Rei cold. Asuka’s birthday- she’s forgotten- Rei’s first instinct is to look for a phone. Then she remembers that she doesn’t know Asuka’s number, or Misato’s, or anyone other than the Commander’s. That had been all she needed.

The door behind her opens, and the medical team steps out. One nurse lowers her face mask and nods first to Rei, then the open door. “He’s asleep,” she says, “but you can visit him.”

“Yes,” Rei says, and moves toward the doorway. She stands in the center of it, one hand against the door to keep it open, the other bracing her against the frame. Shinji is lying on the gurney, nothing attached to him except the standard machine that maintains his vitals. Somehow, he looks like he’s simply fallen asleep, not like he’s been away for a month and hadn’t just returned to the world being spat out from a core.

Rei knows there is another place to be that isn’t here. Still, she lets the door close behind her as she walks over to Shinji’s bedside and pulls up a chair. She hasn’t brought a book this time, but she can’t leave to get one. There’s something keeping her here, something she can’t quite place, but the thought of trying to leave puts a quiver in her stomach. The world teeters on the edge of imbalance: she cannot leave Shinji, not yet awake, but she can’t go to Asuka, either.

* * *

The sheets are still rumpled from Rei’s failed attempt at making the bed. Asuka stares at them, at the clutter shoved into the dark corners of her room, and at the light filtering through the window. This apartment won’t feel so lonely, soon. Shinji will be back, and Misato with him.

Asuka should be glad. The halls will no longer seem too wide, the silences no longer stifling, but simply awkward. She should favor that, but she can’t find the will to; the halls themselves are awkward now, and the sense of home that permeated the walls has gone. Asuka knows there’s no use trying to find it, now. It’s not the first time she’s lost such a thing.

Asuka forms a fist and swings at her bedroom door, knocking it shut with a bang. Her hand aches, and she knows her knuckles will be bruised the next day, but what does it matter? It’d be justified, even if it was silly, foolish even, to hope that someone might remember her birthday, or at least smile for her.

But of course Rei’s smile was for Shinji. Asuka hadn’t given her any reason to be happy. Asuka makes another fist, this one to punch her pillow, but the will drains out of her before she can even draw back. She tugs the pillow closer instead, pushes her face against it. Somehow it reminds her of Rei; perhaps it’s the softness; she can’t bring herself to let go. She lets one tear soak the fabric, then another, until she’s broken yet another promise to herself and she has to flip the pillow over so her tears don’t soak it through. She opens her mouth to curse Shinji or Misato or maybe even herself- she sucks a breath in through the pillowcase-

“I want my mother.”

* * *

Shinji wakes the morning after to a ceiling that’s come to be expected and the equally unexpected presence of Rei. She watches him through tired, ringed eyes; her smile, though, comes soft and gentle like the dawn, and slowly she straightens her back and shifts her chair closer to the bed.

“Ayanami,” Shinji says, and he smiles too. He sits up, rubbing his eyes with pale hands. “Have I been sleeping long?” He appears happy, but a strain tugs at the corners of his eyes and the sun no longer shines so brightly from them.

There’s no use lying to Shinji. “A month,” Rei says. “Katsuragi will be better able to tell you what happened. I… am glad you are safe, Ikari.”

“Thanks.” Shinji looks out the window at the city, still standing. Rei wonders if he’s thinking that the city is only there because of him. “Where’s Asuka?” he asks. “Is she outside like last time?”

“I do not think she is,” Rei says. “I have not left since we arrived. However, I believe she will visit soon. She does worry about you, Ikari.”

“And she’ll probably yell at me for it, too.”

“She cares. She simply cannot find a way to express it.”

“She might just say it,” Shinji mumbles. “I’d like her to just say what she means for once.”

“I believe we would all like that.”

“We would,” laughs Shinji. “But don’t tell her I said that. She’d probably yell at me for that, too.”

Rei inclines her head, and now it’s her with the smile that feels forced and on the point of breaking. She doesn’t know why. Shinji is happy, and he is alive. Surely Asuka would be able to find happiness in this, as Rei has.

“Have you slept at all, Ayanami?” Shinji asks. He’s turned away from the window; he stares at Rei, seemingly into her, and Rei wonders if he really can see everything that worries her and keeps her awake, not just his safety, but his father’s plans for humanity. “You look tired.”

“I have not.”

“You should go,” he says. “We might need you if an Angel attacks.”

“I’ll be fine. Like you said, Asuka is coming.”

“Very well.” Rei pushes her chair back and tries to stand. She nearly falls against the bed, catching herself on the side rails, and when she’s regained her balance she finds Shinji’s hand resting atop hers.

“Be careful,” he says. “We don’t need two pilots hurt.”

“I will be careful.”

“Right. I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Goodbye, Ikari.”

They smile at each other again, and then Rei finds herself at the door, through it. She emerges into the hall, which for once isn’t empty. There’s someone at the end of the hall, a distant blur of red and blue that Rei knows immediately is the Second Child.

“Soryu?” Rei says. Asuka marches toward her, face stony, hands clenched at her sides. “What is it?”

Asuka’s hand fastens around Rei’s and begins pulling. Rei staggers along behind her, barely able to keep pace. Her feet shuffle unevenly with every step, and if it wasn’t for Asuka in front of her, Rei thinks she’d have fallen over already.

Asuka pulls them around the corner and into a portion of the hospital wing that remains unused. She slams Rei against the wall, hands like claws digging into her shoulders. Her mouth hangs open, twitching silently, the words she wishes to speak failing her again and again. She manages, at last: “You’ve decided you like him more, now?”

“Soryu?”

“Don’t bullshit me! I heard you. You were laughing!” A fire burns in Asuka’s eyes unlike any Rei has seen before; she looks to be on the verge of madness, and a single push might cause Asuka to give herself over to it. Asuka pulls Rei from the wall and shoves her, sending her staggering away. “I don’t need to visit him if he has _you,_ ” she spits. “If you want to go hang out around him, don’t let me stop you! He never needed me anyway!”

“Soryu, that is not true.” The world is spinning slightly, but Rei anchors herself with a hand against the closest wall. “I was merely checking on him. You said that as pilots, we should watch out for one another.”

“You’re lying!” Asuka screams. She flings an arm in Rei’s direction, but is too far away to hit anything but air. “You’re lying!”

“I am not.”

“Then you don’t know you are! You care about him. You care about him more than me. You’ve never tried to make _me_ laugh!”

“I do not know how.” Rei dares to take a single step towards Asuka, bringing herself within reach. Asuka does not strike her, though. She stares desperately at Rei, like she’s hoping that Rei isn’t lying at all, and that she is, only she’s been let down too many times to ever believe it. “If you wish for me to make you laugh, I will try, if you allow me.”

“Allow you? Since when have you ever asked me what to do?”

“This is different. This is about you.” Another step closer. Rei stretches out a hand towards Asuka’s chest, fingers aimed at her heart. Asuka jerks back, baring her teeth. “You must open your heart,” Rei says. “To others. To EVA. You are closed off, and that is why you are hurting.”

“You don’t know anything about me. I’ve been hurt enough by opening up to people, and what would you know? You don’t know anything! You’re emotionless, you don’t feel!” Asuka edges in a half circle around Rei, placing the corridor that leads to the elevator at her back. “You’re a doll!”

“You know that is not true. I have opened myself to both you and Ikari. I have felt, despite my attempts not to.” Rei lifts her gaze, checking the walls for cameras. There are none, but there might still be listening devices- she wouldn’t put it past the Commander to have some installed. “It is because of you that I wished to feel,” she whispers.

Asuka staggers back like Rei has shoved her, mouth trembling. “No,” she mutters, but it’s weak. Rei takes a step toward her, and Asuka’s eyes narrow again. “No,” she screams again, “That’s bullshit!” She doesn’t believe it, though. Rei sees the doubt in her; it’s written on her face and in the slackening of her fists. “You’re lying! You never cared about me! You only pretended to because you didn’t have Shinji around to babysit! I’m done. I don’t need you feeling sorry for me! I don’t need anyone!”

“Soryu-”

Asuka whirls and storms away, her footfalls ringing angrily even long after she’s disappeared back into the maze of hallways. Rei stands planted where she was, still touching the wall, the world again spinning around her. She’s tired, so tired- it hurts now, too. This isn’t fatigue. Rei allows herself to slump against the wall, falling slowly to her knees. In spite of broken bones and internal bleeding, she’s never felt anything like this. Her chest is tight, and her throat too; it feels like she might suffocate there, and the world is now a narrow tunnel before her eyes. Rei looks up, inexplicably hoping that Asuka might come back, that she isn’t satisfied and has thought of something else to yell at Rei about.

The hall is empty, but not silent. Where Asuka’s voice once was, Rei’s gasps now fill the void, and the beating of her heart is so loud and painful that Rei wishes she might tear it from her chest.


	7. Eos

The average recovery time of the First Child from injury is about two weeks. The average recovery time of the Third Child is approximately one.

The recovery time of the Second Child, Asuka thinks, does not exist as a statistic. It’s more an event that spans the length of Asuka’s life, starting from when she was three years old, and which is still continuing.

Today, the LCL feels cold and forbidding. It reminds her of the hospital room where Kyoko was kept. It reminds her of the First Child’s voice.

She’s been in this entry plug for far too long. Her thoughts circle aimlessly in her head, a twisting whirlpool that drags Asuka down into the parts of her mind she tries not to touch, where bitter memories lie.

“Asuka,” someone says. Doctor Akagi. Asuka squeezes her eyes together even though they’re already shut. She doesn’t want to think of doctors and what they have to say. They never say anything good, not for her. “Your sync rate is down 12 points since the last one. That’s a twenty point drop. You can’t be thinking of extraneous things-”

“I’m not!” Asuka shouts. Of course, that’s a lie. How is she supposed to sit there thinking of nothing when her stepmother called the night before, when Shinji’s back and no one needs her any longer?

“That’s enough for today,” Ritsuko says. “Asuka, you need to improve your score, or you’ll be taken off active duty.”

“Right,” mumbles Asuka. “It’s not like you need me around, anyway.”

The LCL drains from the plug and the hatch slides open, but Asuka keeps sitting in the control seat until she’s certain that Shinji must be gone. She doesn’t care if Rei’s stayed behind- they’ll meet in the locker rooms anyway, and if Rei knows what’s good for her, she won’t say a word.

But Rei isn’t in the locker rooms, nor the restroom, where Asuka goes next. The part of Asuka that’s disappointed at this is also the part that wants to avoid Rei, so she won’t have to think of apologizing to her for what she’d said in the hospital wing.

They’ve been avoiding each other since then, or maybe it’s Rei who’s kindly stayed out of Asuka’s way. It seems like something Rei would do, she thinks. Asuka walks out of the restroom in a daze, following the signs that point to the elevator. Something feels different about NERV today. The air is stale and listless, and the elevator sluggish as it works audibly towards Asuka’s floor.

The doors open. The elevator isn’t empty. Somehow- subconsciously?- she’s found Rei, or Rei has found her. One of the two. Asuka walks in and stations herself in the corner opposite Rei, arms folded over her chest, eyes staring resolutely at the blue paint on the walls. If she squints, what Asuka can see of Rei’s head blurs and becomes a part of the paint, and it’s like Rei isn’t there any longer.

The elevator clicks as it advances past floor after floor. Asuka has almost convinced herself that Rei isn’t there. They must be halfway to the surface now, or more. Rei shifts her weight, shoes scuffing the floor. For a moment, she registers in Asuka’s sight again, and Asuka can’t help but look in her direction.

“Have you thought about what I said?” asks Rei. She can’t possibly know that Asuka is looking at her; she’s still in the same stance she was before, facing the elevator doors. She can’t have seen, but somehow she has, just as she knows Asuka has pushed herself off the wall and stands with half-formed fists, hesitating, waiting for anything else Rei might have to say. “You must open yourself to others, Soryu. Open your heart.”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?!” Asuka pounds a fist against the side of the elevator. “What right do you have to talk about me?”

“I know enough,” Rei says. “I have seen how you fight the Angels. I have seen what happens afterwards. You have told me yourself.” Rei turns around, and Asuka feels her legs grow weak. She wonders what Rei would do if she just fell, suddenly. Rei might catch her, but she might just as easily let Asuka drop.

“You hate that you are neglected by Katsuragi.” Rei tilts her head, staring into Asuka’s eyes, and Asuka fights to keep breathing normally, like nothing’s wrong. “You do not want to be replaced. More than anything, you are afraid.”

“I’m not afraid!”

“You are. You fear this.” Rei stretches out her hand, and her fingers settle on the side of Asuka’s face. “You fear being close to someone.” Asuka opens her mouth, but the words she wants to say do not come out. She wants to tell Rei that she’s wrong, but Asuka knows what Rei does not, that just moments earlier Asuka had been looking for her.

The elevator slows, stops. The doors open, and Rei backs out between them, never taking her eyes off Asuka. “Please reconsider what I said, Soryu,” she whispers. “If you do, I will be here for you.”

The doors shut, and Rei is gone. The elevator begins to descend, retreating back into NERV. Asuka staggers against the wall, slowly lifting her hand to touch her cheek where the ghost of Rei’s touch lingers, as if with her own hands she might hope to capture that feeling and keep it.

* * *

A flicker of light unfolds in the sky as the elevator finally reaches the floor it was called to. There are no sirens this time, just a voice urgently calling all personnel to their battle stations. Asuka takes off running towards the EVA hangars, stopping only briefly in the locker room to change into her plugsuit. Shinji and Rei, she notes with some satisfaction, have already left headquarters, and so she will be the first one in her EVA. Maybe she’ll even be able to kill it before Shinji and Rei can launch.

Asuka pelts across the walkways and leaps into Unit-02, the entry plug sliding into the EVA’s armor. “Misato!” she shouts. “I’m ready! Send me!”

“I can’t, Asuka.”

“Why-”

“The Angel is in orbit around Earth, and we can’t reach it with any of our weapons.” Misato sounds tired and withdrawn; Asuka imagines her standing on the command bridge with her arms folded across her chest, glaring at the screens around her like that alone would kill the Angel. “We’ll wait for Rei before we do anything.”

“You want _her_ , and not Shinji?”

“We can’t rely on Unit-01 all the time. You and Rei will-”

“No! I’m not doing _anything_ with her! I’m going!”

“Asuka!”

Unit-02 shoves the restraints around its shoulders away and slides back onto the launch catapults. “Unit-02, moving out!” Asuka snarls, and the red EVA shoots up towards the city above.

There’s water streaming down the screen as Asuka hurtles towards the surface. That’s right- today it was supposed to rain. She won’t have a clear shot at the Angel- just whatever the telemetry coming from NERV tells her about its location. If she should miss- if she should fail- no, that won’t happen. Asuka has trained for data-only missions, and things like these shouldn’t be a problem even with a low sync score.

“Sending up the Positron Rifle,” she hears Misato say. Misato’s resigned herself, then, to Asuka deciding to do this mission by herself. Asuka knows she’ll have minutes, maybe a quarter of an hour at best, before Rei comes back and gets into Unit-00. She’ll have to kill the Angel with the first shot, then.

“I can do this,” Asuka whispers. The street beside her opens up, and the Positron Rifle rockets up from a hole in the pavement. Unit-02 takes it up carefully, aims it toward the clouds. The targeting system rises from the seat behind her, covering her eyes and displaying a simulation of a clear sky, where in the distance the Angel can be seen, shining like a second sun. It’s still off-center, just on the edge of the targeting reticule. “I can do this.” Asuka shifts Unit-02’s hands, bringing the rifle up a little. The Angel slowly begins to fill the center of the sight, and Asuka is ready to fire when there’s a flash of light, shattering her concentration and throwing off her aim.

The targeting system sparks and shudders, retracting back into the seat. Unit-02’s visual screen turns to static a second later. _It was never meant to be_. Asuka clamps her eyes shut and yanks back on the control sticks, pulling Unit-02’s arms up. “Damn you!” she cries, pulling the sticks even though there’s no more track left for them to run. “Just die. Just die already!”

She pulls the trigger again, but Unit-02’s arms have already dropped. The shots go wild, exploding in the city and splashing against the distant hills. Unit-02 drops the rifle, emptied, and grabs its head, doubling over at the waist. “It’s in my mind!” she shrieks, grabbing her own head as well. “Get it out. Get it out!”

“Asuka?” Misato’s voice comes through as a faint buzzing sound, unable to pierce the overlapping whispers that now occupy the whole of Asuka’s attention. “Retreat. Do you hear me? That’s an order!”

“No!” Asuka lashes out with her feet and kicks at the controls; Unit-02 staggers to the side, its arms sweeping wildly through the structure of a nearby building. I’d rather… I’d rather die than do that!”

“Asuka!” Misato says. Somewhere beneath the static and the whispers and Misato there is another voice, one that Asuka somehow doesn’t have to strain to hear.

“Katsuragi. I am ready.”

“No! Don’t send her!” Asuka doesn’t know whether her mouth actually moves or if she’s just shouting inside the confines of her mind. The light from before has gone, and all there is now is the blackness on the insides of her eyelids and the harshness of her own breathing. It might be gone, Asuka thinks. Maybe one of her shots had hit the Angel, and now it’s dead. No, that can’t be it. There’s something else, a feeling like one in the past, reminiscent of a headache and building in intensity-

Carefully, Asuka raises her head. In the distance, a light, growing steadily closer. It isn’t the Angel; Asuka feels none of the pain that weighed so heavily on her before. The light is approaching faster, and now Asuka can make out the outline of a familiar bed, one that she wishes she didn’t recognize.

“Mama,” she whispers, and starts running towards it. “Mama?”

“Die with me, Asuka,” a voice calls to her. “You’ll be a good girl, won’t you?”

“Yes!” Asuka screams. “I’ll die with you. Just wait for me. Wait for me!” It isn’t a bed she’s running towards now, but a chair that sits in a single circle of light. “I don’t care what I have to do, just don’t leave me!”

Asuka staggers into the circle. A body swings above her, clad in a hospital gown. In its hand, a doll. _You’re a good girl, Asuka._ The doll drops from the body’s cold, limp hand. Asuka bends to pick it up, torn between throwing it into the darkness surrounding her and holding on to it, the last reminder of her mother’s life. _We will always be together._

“You left me!” Asuka flings the doll at the body, sending it spinning in a slow circle. “You said you’d never leave me, but you did!” The body completes half a turn, and Asuka staggers back, her feet touching the edges of the circle. Her jaw drops at the figure hanging from the rope, no longer her mother, but the frail form of the First Child. “Wonder Girl…?”

Another step back, and Asuka passes into the darkness. The light vanishes, and with it Rei and the doll and the rope, and Asuka is left by herself again. _She’ll leave you, you know._ This voice isn’t Kyoko’s or Rei’s. It sounds like Asuka did when she was younger, but unfathomably tired.

“No. That’s not true. I don’t have anyone anymore. There’s no one who can leave!”

_Do you really think so?_

“Soryu.”

Asuka spins around. Rei is standing in the darkness, her pale skin seemingly aglow, her face an unmoving mask. “Wonder Girl?” she asks. “Did it get you, too?”

“You must leave,” Rei says. They’re no longer in an empty expanse, but in one of the many halls of NERV. “You are no longer needed.”

“What do you mean by that? I’m a pilot, like you. I’m a better pilot than you. If it’s anyone who isn’t needed around here, it’s you!”

“You have been dismissed.” Rei turns away, walking down the corridor and deeper into NERV. “Your presence is unwelcome. Go.”

“Who do you are to think you can say that to me, huh?!” Asuka runs after Rei and grabs her arm, jerking her around so that she faces Asuka. “Who gave you authority over me?!”

“You did,” Rei says. For a stunned moment, Asuka doesn’t react, and now Rei is the one with a hold on both of Asuka’s arms, trapping her against the wall. “You wish for affection and love so badly that you will throw yourself at anyone you think can give it to you. How pathetic are you, Asuka Langley Soryu? Second Child? No one will love you. Not even the girl you think you hate.”

“What’re you talking about? I don’t need any of that shit. It’s useless to me!”

“Kaji Ryoji. Shinji Ikari. Rei Ayanami. The ones you hoped would love you.”

“The First? Why would I fall for someone like her? She’s a doll!”

“You say that because you are afraid of admitting to yourself the truth.” The Angel- that’s what this is that Asuka’s seeing; there’s no way this is Rei- reaches out and touches the sides of Asuka’s face. Asuka’s chest tightens, choking out the words she might have replied with. “This is why you will always be alone.”

“You’re an Angel. You’re lying.”

“I see your heart, Asuka Langley Soryu, and it is breaking.” The Angel in the form of Rei touches Asuka’s shoulder, laying her palm on Asuka’s chest. “You are hurt enough already. If you continue like this, you will only tear yourself apart.”

“I don’t need to hear this. You’re not real. None of this is real!”

“It is as real as your thoughts.”

“It’s not real! You’re lying! All of this is just a lie!”

In the entry plug, Asuka’s nails dig further into her scalp, drawing blood. “Rei,” she whispers, and bubbles depart from her mouth to drift in the LCL around her. “Help me, Rei. Shinji. Anyone.”

She hears the reply that comes over the radio, but her mind does not register it. “Rei,” the Commander says, speaking for the first time in the operation. “Descend to Dogma. Take the Lance.”

“Yes.”

Asuka doesn’t know what was said, or what it might mean. She sits with her head wedged between her knees and her arms folded over her head, crying into the LCL. Within the ruined fortress of her mind, the image of the Second Child sits before the First, who looks down upon her with the same emotionless face as always.

* * *

The maintenance tunnels spanning the length and breadth of NERV were made to accommodate EVAs, but still the descent into Terminal Dogma takes an agonizingly long time. Asuka’s stopped screaming- she’d done that nearly ten minutes ago- and only now is Rei being sent to get the Lance of Longinus.

Rei sees the giant white body of Lilith before she’s come within a safe landing range. Her chest aches as she approaches, but Rei ignores it. Asuka is in need of her aid. The Commander has ordered her to use the Lance. Rei Ayanami will do so.

Rei grips the lance with both hands, tugging it free of the flesh that clings to it so eagerly. As it clears Lilith’s body, the stumpy remains of what had once been legs reform, extending into the LCL pool around her and kicking up small waves that beat at Unit-00’s feet.

“Lance retrieved,” Rei reports. “Now ascending.”

“Unit-02’s life support is reaching critical,” someone else says. The voice is male and calm, sounding completely undisturbed by the events going on. Unit-02’s data can be read as numbers and statistics; it might not even occur to whoever’s at that station that the Second Child is dangerously close to dying.

“Approaching the surface.” Rei emerges and holds the Lance over her head, preparing to throw. She’s never trained for anything like this, or even been told she might need to hold the Lance, but she must throw accurately. Should she miss, it might not be only Asuka who is attacked by the Angel.

“Initiate throw sequence. Ten. Nine.”

Unit-00 shifts, arms drawing the Lance back until its end scrapes the street. Rei anchors its feet as best as she can, throwing the EVA’s weight back, until it seems Unit-00 might fall.

“Two. One.”

Unit-00 hurls the Lance into the sky. The clouds dissipate from above the city as it flies, disappearing with a roar not unlike that of Unit-01. A few seconds pass. The light that’s kept Unit-02 illuminated slowly begins to fade, though whether it’s the sunlight or the death of the Angel, Rei isn’t sure, until she hears at last: “Target eliminated.”

“Rei.” The Commander speaks at once, or maybe he’s been trying to get Rei’s attention since the Lance was thrown, and has only just now succeeded. “Rei, return to the launch bay.”

“Understood,” Rei says. “What of Unit-02?”

“Leave it and its pilot. There may be contamination. We will retrieve Unit-02 only when we’re certain nothing will happen.”

“Yes.”

She cuts the line with the Commander and sits back in her EVA as it’s slowly drawn back into NERV. The Angel is dead, and the Second Child is not, but there’s no way for Rei to feel glad about this. Asuka is waiting above, alone, and she’ll be kept that way for at least 24 hours. Rei understands why these things must be done, but it doesn’t stop her from worrying as she climbs out of Unit-00 and walks back to the locker rooms.

Asuka’s uniform lies across the middle bench, left there in a hurry as Asuka ran to Unit-02. Rei turns her back to it, focusing on changing out of her plugsuit, and doesn’t turn around until she’s put her uniform back on and played with the details of it so much that her fingers hurt from tying and re-tying her neck bow.

These clothes belong in Asuka’s locker, but she doesn’t know the combination, and Asuka won’t be returning to collect them. Slowly Rei gathers them up, making sure everything is folded neatly before tucking the bundle beneath her arm. She’ll return it to Asuka the next time they meet.

Now the room is spotless, and everything is as it should be. Rei shuts her locker and walks toward the door, but finds herself unable to leave it. Outside is Commander Ikari’s world, and Unit-02, waiting to be collected. In here, Rei to endure the silence, something she’s used to, and the lingering presence of Asuka by her locker and in her clothes. Rei sets the uniform to the side on one of the benches and sits next to it, hands folded in her lap. She’s alone, as she knows Asuka is, and somehow through that, Rei feels they are connected.

* * *

Asuka had paid no mind to the hands that pulled her from Unit-02; she now sits on a nearby rooftop, the area around her cordoned off by caution tape, staring sightlessly in the direction of still smoking hillside crater. Unit-02 itself has already been taken back into NERV: a statement, if anything, that Asuka has worn out her usefulness, and that EVA can no longer be called ‘hers’.

She knows, from the chatter of the workers who collected her, that it’s Rei who’d saved her from the Angel. It’s an impossible thought, that Rei Ayanami might care for her. Rei was probably just acting on orders, like she always did.

And the Angel- that was some bullshit it had tried to get her to believe. Asuka, in love with Rei? Completely unthinkable. The Angel was simply trying to throw her off- that’s it, it has to be. What better way to shatter her than to offer her the hope of love, only to have it torn from her again? Asuka finds herself nodding along to her own thoughts. That’s what it must be. The Angel was lying, and that’s that.

“Asuka.” Shinji is calling to her from behind the caution tape, trying to get her attention. He’s saying something- platitudes probably, or maybe _I’m glad you’re alright_ and _Are you okay_. Asuka closes her eyes and tunes him out. The Angel- the first one that had spoken to her- it had been right about everything it said. What if this Angel was, too?

Impossible, Asuka thinks. Rei is competition. Another pilot means more attention diverted away from her, but if Asuka can no longer pilot… She places her head between her hands and clamps them over her ears. She doesn’t want to hear Shinji’s stupid, happy voice any longer. She hates that Rei has saved her, but now she’d rather have Rei waiting on the other side of that tape than Shinji. At least Rei would know how to shut up.

At last, Shinji takes the hint and wanders away. Asuka uncurls from the ball she’s made, gazing at the floor between her feet. The containment team has never taken this long to arrive before- not that time when the Angel took over the simulation bodies, not the time that Shinji had burst out of the Angel in Unit-01. It’s just another sign that, to NERV, Asuka is no longer worth considering. Asuka lays her head against one knee, now staring dejectedly at the rails on the roof around her. She could stand, right now, and jump off. There wouldn’t be anyone to stop her. Even if there was, they probably wouldn’t, anyway.

Misato wouldn’t care. Shinji might, but he’d be too weak to stop Asuka, and she’d never allow him to try. That leaves Rei- Rei would try, if only to keep a resource alive, and she would have the capacity to do so. Rei would grab her and haul her back, and even that is more welcome to Asuka than being left here, alone- Oh, god. God, Asuka thinks, she’s fucked up; the Angel must have done this to her, because there’s no way in hell that before all this, she would have wanted Rei Ayanami to be with her.

* * *

A day in the hospital wing comes and goes, seeming just like any other. Asuka comes and goes without speaking or being spoken to: there’s nothing to say. The containment crews wheel her in strapped down to a gurney, and when the 24 hours is up, they release her back into the world. There’s no visit from Doctor Akagi this time, no hospital gown in the bathroom, and by the time Asuka’s changed and showered to get the dried LCL off her body, it’s already nearly the end of the day.

She doesn’t want to go back to Misato’s. Doing that means seeing Shinji again; more than that, it’ll mean having to face Misato, whose orders she defied to try and fight the Angel. Asuka finds herself wandering somewhere near the heart of Tokyo-3, turning random corners and staying away from the places she knows well. If she’s lucky, no one will recognize her. She’ll be just another girl in a school uniform, since that’s what she is. She hasn’t been officially discharged yet, but she’s sure the day is coming soon. Another sync test, perhaps, and she’ll be gone then.

The busy streets become desolate, abandoned wrecks that still show signs of life having once been here. This, Asuka realizes, is where one of the stray rifle blasts landed. No one was killed, but the buildings here are scorched and the ground is dusted with a light cover of ash. Asuka walks on, keeping her eyes forward. She doesn’t look away until she’s a good two blocks past the area, and then she doesn’t look back.

Her luck runs out as she draws closer to the edge of the city. She turns a corner, and someone is there. Of course it would be Rei. Asuka stands frozen with indecision, wondering if she should turn and run, or if she should keep on like Rei isn’t there, and doesn’t exist at all. Rei seems seized by this same puzzle, or at least something similar to it. She regards Asuka with a tilted head and warm eyes. Asuka wonders if maybe this isn’t a coincidence, if maybe Rei followed her, or knew she was going to pass through here, and came here to wait. No- it’s a stupid idea, and an even stupider thing to hope for.

The best thing to do is to keep going, as if Rei isn’t there. Asuka continues forward, intent on leaving the area and leaving Rei behind. As she passes Rei, a hand wraps around her wrist, warm and firm and patient. Asuka stops walking and jerks her wrist, but Rei doesn’t let go. She hangs on tighter, not looking at Asuka, but still keeping her there. Asuka tugs again, and this time it’s weaker. Still Rei’s hand is there.

Rei begins to move, walking forward, pulling gently on Asuka’s arm. Asuka stumbles along behind her, powerless to resist. She doesn’t know where Rei is taking her, but there’s no urge to run. She’d wanted Rei beside her the day before, and now she has her wish.

Their disjointed chain of two navigates the maze of streets on the outskirts of Tokyo-3. At last they come onto a flat road lined by crumbling apartment buildings. These, Asuka knows, were intended to be lived in, but then the Angels came and people started leaving, and these buildings were left irrelevant and without purpose.

Rei guides them up to the base of one and begins to walk inside. Now Asuka wrests her hand free, standing stoically in the street. _You can’t live here,_ she wants to say to Rei. _Stop joking_ , but Rei is not the type to joke around; there’s a reason they came here.

Rei lingers just inside the building’s lobby, as if she’s waiting for Asuka to make up her mind. A moment passes, and it seems like they’ve come to an understanding. Rei will not go after Asuka if she chooses to leave. They won’t speak of this again. If Asuka goes into this place, there’s no guarantees of what she’ll find, but Rei will be with her.

Asuka steps forward into the lobby, stopping beside Rei. She’s waiting for something- for Rei to take her hand, or maybe for the impossible to happen: Rei smiling. Instead Rei begins walking towards a stairwell in the distance, its rails rusty and uncared for, the staircase littered with leaves from the overgrown courtyard and bits of paper and debris.

“Rei?” asks Asuka. She steps around a portion of the stair that’s faded and beginning to crumble. “Where are we going?”

Rei doesn’t answer. She keeps walking resolutely up the stairs, waiting on every landing for Asuka to catch up. When Rei turns aside and begins walking along one of the halls, Asuka follows her, lingering to occasionally peer over the side and into the courtyard below. “Is this where you live?” she asks. Rei ignores her and pushes open one of the many apartments, walking inside. Asuka notices she hadn’t bothered with a key. “Hey, I’m trying to talk to you-”

Asuka arrives in the doorway and falls silent. The room before her is dark and barely lit by the light coming in from a window on the far side. Asuka tries the lights, but they don’t work. Her eyes follow Rei into the room and find the floor littered with clothes and bloodstained bandages. Rei is sitting on her bed, just a mattress with a single blanket and pillow held by a disintegrating frame, removing the ribbon from her neck.

“Wait,” Asuka says. “You don’t live here. This is a joke, right? It has to be.”

“I do not joke, Soryu.” Rei places the ribbon on the table by her bed. The surface is littered with pills and bottles; the ribbon drapes between them, and Asuka is reminded of the bright color of blood.

“You can’t live here. You don’t have any electricity. How… how do you live like this? You’re the Commander’s favorite, aren’t you? How can he let you-”

“I am not his favorite,” says Rei. “I am here because it is convenient.”

“Convenient for you, or for him?”

Rei ignores Asuka’s last comment and pats the space beside her on the bed. “Sit down, Soryu,” she says.

“I’m not gonna sit down!”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“Of course something’s wrong!” Asuka shouts. Her voice rings off the walls and from the surrounding empty space. “You had to save me. I’m useless. Bringing me here was stupid.”

“Why-”

“They’re going to replace me, aren’t they? They’re gonna take Unit-02 from me. I can’t pilot anymore. They wouldn’t need me, anyway. All anyone ever needs is stupid Shinji, isn’t that right?”

“You will not be replaced,” Rei says. “You are still capable of piloting, and you are uninjured.”

“That shit doesn’t matter anymore! My sync ratio is dropping. You’ve been paying attention the last week, haven’t you?” snaps Asuka. “It’ll probably go down more after this. Soon I won’t be able to connect to Unit-02 at all.” Asuka hangs her head, staring at one of the bandages on Rei’s floor. “Unit-02 has been with me longer than anything else. If I lose it, I’ll be nothing.”

“Soryu.” Rei rises halfway from her bed, grabbing Asuka’s arm and pulling her in. Asuka settles hard against the mattress, sending the frame creaking violently, but Rei ignores this and pulls Asuka against her. “You are alive,” she says. “You can still change things. It is not too late for you.”

Asuka shakes her head, remaining still in Rei’s arms. Rei doesn’t know that it’s already too late, and has been ever since Asuka began to doubt herself after her defeat against the Fourteenth Angel. Perhaps it was even earlier, and Asuka, blinded by EVA, just hadn’t realized it. “Ayanami,” she whispers, and Rei’s hands grow stiff on her back. “Tell me the truth.”

“Soryu?”

“Why are you doing this? You… you don’t care about me, right? You’re just doing this because I’m a pilot. Once I’m not-”

“It does not matter whether you are a pilot or not.” Rei leans forward, pressing her cheek to Asuka’s shoulder. “I do care for you. I do not know why, but that is the truth.”

Asuka nods, her hair falling from behind her ear and brushing Rei’s face. She doesn’t speak, but at last her hands come up and wrap around Rei’s waist, clinging to the fabric of her uniform shirt. As she lowers her head to rest it upon Rei’s, she chokes back what might be a sob that’s just beginning to form.

“Soryu,” Rei is drawing back now, and Asuka clutches at her, not wanting her to leave. “Katsuragi will be looking for you,” she says, reaching down to pry Asuka’s hands off her clothes. Asuka latches on to her instead, fingers pressing down on Rei’s so hard that they might leave marks behind. “Soryu, this is no place for you to stay.”

“I don’t wanna go,” Asuka whispers. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

“You will not. You will have Ikari and Katsuragi-”

“They don’t care about me. Misato only worries when it’s _Shinji_ in trouble, and Shinji doesn’t give a damn-”

“You know that is not true.”

“Let me stay here.”

“I can’t.” Rei manages to free one hand and reaches for Asuka’s head, running her fingers slowly through Asuka’s brilliant red hair, working out the tangles. “You must stay with Katsuragi. But if you wish, during the day, you may come here whenever you want.”

“You’ll be here?”

“If I am not at the Geofront, yes. Even then, I will return.”

“Promise me.” Asuka grabs at the hand in her hair, holding it tightly. She feels like if she lets go, then this apartment and Rei will be gone, and Asuka will wake up in quarantine having only been living a pleasant dream. “Promise me you won’t leave me.”

Rei’s other hand touches Asuka’s. Asuka lets go, fingers sliding limply back into her lap. Rei finishes working through Asuka’s hair, then reaches over and and rests a hand on Asuka’s knee. “I promise,” she says. “I am not going anywhere, Soryu. I will be here until the end.”

“Okay.” The word leaves Asuka as a whisper, pained and quiet. Asuka begins to stand, but then Rei tugs at her uniform and motions for her to wait.

“Here,” says Rei. She walks over to her closet, drawing from it a neatly folded set of clothes. “You left this behind,” she says.

“Is that where it went?” Asuka takes the clothes from Rei and holds them in both hands, as if she doesn’t know what to do with them, or why Rei is given them to her. “I thought the janitors took it.”

“I am sorry if I worried you.”

“No. It’s fine.” Asuka places the clothes under her arm, unknowingly mimicking the same stance Rei had taken before. “Thank you.”

Rei smiles up at Asuka and moves to wrap her arms around her one final time. “I will see you shortly,” she says, releasing Asuka and backing towards the bed. “Be careful.”

“Yes.” Asuka nods, then leaves the apartment, retracing Rei’s steps down the stairs and out into the city. From here, it’s just a simple matter of following the sounds until Asuka encounters the train tracks; she follows those into the main hub of the city, and then she’ll be able to find her way home.

As she walks, the sensation of Rei’s arms around her does not fade. It persists, following her home, as if a portion of Rei resides in the bundle tucked between her elbow and her body, and won’t leave her alone. Somehow, Asuka is alright with this. If anything, it’s an echo of the promise Rei has made to her, so Asuka won’t easily forget it. As she walks, she passes a portion of the city that’s being reworked, where a chunk of debris from the battle had smashed into the pavement and cracked it in two of the four lanes.

The Angel, Asuka thinks. It told her that she loved Rei. It’s an impossible thought- Asuka does not _love_ \- but the thought of Rei’s warmth causes Asuka to smile, and she can no longer muster those angry thoughts that once served to defend her from anything positive she might have wanted to say about Rei.

The Angel can’t be right. Asuka squeezes her hands so tight that her nails threaten to puncture her skin. She isn’t in love with Rei Ayanami. She doesn’t love anyone, because she knows they’ll leave, they always do, and Asuka is tired of being left behind.


	8. Selene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Sorry for the late update, been dealing with some real life bullshit. Anyway, the last 3 chapters of Prometheus are hitting this weekend so here goes._

Misato sights the Sixteenth Angel first, a coiled mass of glowing white circling nearby over the wooded hills. By the time she’s made it from the outlying roads to the command center, Rei and the other pilots are already in their EVAs, awaiting her orders.

“The status of the Angel is currently unknown,” Maya Ibuki says, reporting to both Misato on the bridge and the pilots, still kept below the surface. “Its A.T. Field is active, but the Angel keeps cycling between Blood Pattern Orange and Blue.”

“What do the MAGI say?”

“Results are inconclusive.”

“Right,” says Misato. “Launch Unit-00. Asuka will be backup in Unit-02. We’ll monitor it until the Angel attacks. It’s the only thing we can do.”

“No…” Rei whispers, shifting uneasily in the entry plug. She wonders how Misato and the others can’t feel it, this pressure building up in the LCL around her and in her gut, intensifying as her EVA rockets towards the surface. “It is coming.”

“Did you say something, Rei?”

Unit-00 reaches the surface. Rei steps off from the launch platform, grabbing the positron rifle from the docking bay beside her EVA. In the distance, the rotating circular form of the Angel shifts, one end snapping off and rearing back like a snake, pointing unmistakably at Unit-00.

The Sixteenth Angel shoots forward with lightning speed, approaching Unit-00 before Rei has time to gather an A.T. Field together. Unit-00 lurches to the side, narrowly avoiding the Angel, which passes within what seems like inches of the EVA’s armor. Rei wraps a hand around the Angel, gripping it tightly. With the other she guides her rifle so the barrel is centered on the Angel’s body, ensuring it’ll soak up most of the blast.

The rifle kicks three times, each with its own loud report. The Angel does not writhe or try to flee, but presses one end of itself against Unit-00’s armored plates. Rei jerks back, her EVA letting go of both the Angel and the rifle as she grips the Angel’s body, trying to tear it away from her. Her stomach burns as little veins begin to trace their way up her plugsuit, evidence of the Angel’s contamination.

Unit-00 staggers back, struggling to find a balance on uneven legs. It crashes into a thick grove of trees, the Angel still clinging to it, contamination spreading visibly across both Rei’s body and beneath the armor of the EVA.

“Unit-00,” Rei begins, and finds her voice is failing her. She grips the controls tightly, straining to keep the Angel back, but its advance will not be stopped. “Unit-00 is contaminated,” she reports.

“Keep the Angel occupied,” says Misato. “We’re launching Unit-02.”

The reply comes to Rei through a haze of muddled fatigue. The world around her is going grey; her body is warm, and she wishes she might sleep. Asuka could take care of the Angel, right? It’s been so long since Rei was able to rest without hurting, but Asuka is coming and she’s going to need help-

_It is not necessary,_ a voice inside her says. It comes from herself, but it is not of her: there’s something off about the sound of it. Rei closes her eyes, trying to breathe through lungs that labor sluggishly.

“Who are you?” Rei manages to say. She knows her lips form the shapes of the words, but doesn’t hear the sound.

_I am you._

“Are you the me within the EVA?” Rei asks, and knows already what the answer is. She and Asuka now have both felt the touch of Angels twice, though this one seems to hold Rei in curious regard, rather than the ones which had come before. “Why are you here?”

_Become one with me, Rei Ayanami._ At last Rei sees the source of the voice: a girl with blue hair clad in white who stands in a thigh-deep pool of LCL. It’s her, but it isn’t- the details of the figure’s face are wrong, and her eyes do not have the same weariness as Rei’s.

“No. I am myself. I am part of no one.”

_It is inevitable._ The Angel lifts its head, smiling at Rei. _I have given a part of myself to you. In turn, I see you._

“What do you see?”

_Pain. You are hurting._

“Pain?” Rei says. “No. It is not that.”

_Then what?_

“I am…” Unbidden, the image of Asuka rises in Rei’s mind. She pushes it away, but the Angel has already noticed. It tilts its head at Rei, and the smile has faded, becoming a thoughtful frown.

_It is pain,_ the Angel says. _Loneliness._ For a moment the Angel’s form seems to waver, and when it appears whole again, its eyes are closed. _You are like us. You exist alongside others, but you fail to interact with them. You do not have to endure this any longer, Rei Ayanami. You may join with us._

“I cannot. My purpose is to defeat the Angels.”

_And if we take this form?_ The copy of Rei blurs and shifts, and now it’s Asuka who stands in the LCL, extending a hand to Rei. _We sense you are not complete. We can make you whole._

“I will not join you.”

_You must. It is inevitable._

“It is not. She would never…” Rei lowers her head, and the burning in her eyes she’d associated with the Angel’s contamination slides down her cheeks, dripping into her lap. Rei’s eyes fly open, and she’s back in her entry plug, Unit-02 rising up from the city and droplets congregating on her plugsuit. “Tears?” she whispers. The contamination has progressed to her neck; even speaking takes a concentrated effort. Rei’s body slumps against the seat, her gaze directed at where Unit-02 has begun to advance toward the Angel.

Unit-00 is raising its hand, and Rei’s is lifting with it, extended at Unit-02, a clear gesture for help. The Angel is trying to lure Asuka in. Rei can only watch Asuka come closer, too tired to speak and warn her, and when the Angel rears back and charges Unit-02, Rei closes her eyes. Even though she must, she can’t bring herself to watch. Should Asuka fail here, and her sync ratio drop below the threshold needed to pilot, it will be because of Rei, and Rei thinks she’d rather let the Angel merge with her than be the reason that Asuka loses Unit-02.

* * *

Her sync ratio is 12 percent, just over the required minimum, but that’s all Asuka needs. She just needs her EVA to move, so she can get over to Rei, and once she’s removed the Angel from Unit-00, they’ll kill it together.

“Unit-02 is advancing,” Asuka declares, grabbing a pallet rifle and raising it to her shoulder.

“Rei isn’t responding,” Misato says. “Your priority is to kill the Angel. If it takes over Unit-00…”

“It won’t,” Asuka says. She clenches the controls with trembling hands, slowly guiding her EVA towards the coiled form of the Angel. “Is she still in there?”

“We haven’t received an eject signal.”

“Why haven’t you sent one already?”

“The Angel is jamming it. Rei will have to eject herself.”

“What use is an eject function if it never works when we need it to?” Asuka snaps. “Hey First, you can hear me, right? The Angel hasn’t fucked that up, too? Get out of here already! You’re in my way!”

“There’s no use shouting at her, Asuka. She might not even be connected to us anymore.”

“This is stupid,” mutters Asuka. “Alright, I’m going to attack-”

The Angel whips around, the end that isn’t anchored to Rei pointing straight at Unit-02. “Shit!” Asuka shouts, and opens fire with her rifle. The bullets splash off the Angel’s body as it races towards Unit-02, wrapping itself around one of the EVA’s arms and jerking it upward.

The armor on Unit-02’s arms splinters and falls away as the bone beneath shatters in two, jutting up between remnants of red and white plates and exposed, bloodied flesh. Asuka looks at Unit-02’s arm and frowns, gazing at her own. She hadn’t felt a thing. “I’m that far gone, huh?” she whispers, watching the injured arm twitch and try to move. “Nothing that happens can hurt me in here.”

In a second, she’s proved wrong. Veins like those on Unit-00’s body spiderweb their way up the EVA, appearing in turn on Asuka’s arm. She screams and presses it against herself, trying to rid herself of the burning feeling assailing her mind. “Asuka?” shouts Misato. “What’s going on? Asuka!”

The Angel’s mind now works alongside its body, the distinctive touch of it dancing along the edges of Asuka’s thoughts. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to ward off another attack on the raw, wounded bits of her psyche. This Angel, though, does not seem to want to hurt her. It’s trying to draw her into it, she realizes. The contamination of her EVA is just to keep her there while the Angel tries to subvert her mind. Already she can hear it calling to her, taking on a shape in the darkness before her.

_The Second Child._ The Angel doesn’t sound young, like the others had. It speaks in a combination of Rei and Asuka’s voices, sounding amused. _You aren’t like her at all._

“That’s right,” Asuka hisses through clenched teeth. “I’m not like Rei. Get out of my mind. I’m not surrendering so easily.”

_The First Child has not given up, either._ The figure in Asuka’s mind coalesces into the form of Shinji, wearing his school uniform. _Why do you think of him?_ it asks. _You are fighting me alongside Rei Ayanami. What does he have to do with this?_

“I’m not thinking of that idiot!”

_You are. You believe if you defeat me, your status will be restored._ _You will again be the superior pilot._ The Angel pauses, digging further into Asuka’s mind. Asuka curls up on the seat, rocking back and forth, unable to do anything more than wish the Angel would stop. _Or is this because you wish he could be closer to you?_

“Don’t make me laugh!” shouts Asuka. “Me and him? It’s impossible!”

_Yes,_ the Angel says. _You are right._ It turns away, shifting in shape, and when it looks at Asuka again, it’s taken on the form of Kaji. _Is this better? If you are with him, you will be seen as an adult. You will be recognized-_ Again, the Angel stops. It doesn’t wait for Asuka’s protest to begin changing again. It seems to have found the portion of Asuka that’s long since given up on Kaji. His eyes were for Misato, she’d realized, and without the title of best pilot, Asuka had no claim to calling herself grown.

_I see,_ the Angel says. Finally, it decides on a shape. Asuka stares at Rei Ayanami, who approaches her with open arms as if to sweep her up in an embrace. _You wish for acceptance, for love. I can do this for you, Asuka._ The Angel has taken on Rei’s voice now, and there’s no hint of Asuka’s in it. It smiles benignly, waiting for Asuka to take the single step between them. _Do not resist the inevitable. I can offer you this reality you so desire._

“Shut up,” says Asuka. “You don’t know anything about me. If you did, you’d know I’m going to kill you!”

_But I am you. I have seen your thoughts. They are a part of me as much as they are of you._ The Angel stares evenly at Asuka, smiling at her. _How would you intend to kill me, Asuka? I have immobilized both your EVAs. You cannot stop me. It is simply a matter of which one of you will succumb to me first._

“You’ll be here a long time, then. Rei won’t give up. She’s… the strongest one out of all the pilots.”

_Is she?_ The Angel laughs, softly, and Asuka opens her eyes, gazing at the motionless Unit-00. It’s impossible to think that Rei would be close to surrendering to the Angel, but she hasn’t responded since that first contact.

Asuka knows what she must do. Rei will be of more use to NERV, and as far as things go, this isn’t the worst way to lose Unit-02. In her mind she feels the Angel shifting in anticipation, having sensed the break in Asuka’s resolve.

_Will you surrender, then?_ it asks. _To save the one you care about?_

Asuka’s tongue darts out, wetting her dry lips. “No,” she whispers, and the Angel recoils. It’s sensed the change in Asuka’s mind, her determination that if she must bare herself to anything, she’ll do it to Unit-02, her only constant companion. With a flick of her half-numbed fingers, Asuka disables her EVA from transmitting radio signals. Already she can hear Misato yelling at her, ordering her to turn them back on. Asuka ignores this, ignores the Angel, reaching deep into the parts of her she likes to think no longer exist.

“You’d better be paying attention, you hear?” Asuka says to Unit-02. “Rei said to open my heart to EVA, so here I am. I’m only saying this once.” She winces as the Angel screeches at her, a thousand voices speaking at once to try and distract or delay her. Asuka grabs one of Unit-02’s control sticks and seizes the fallen pallet rifle, emptying the clip methodically into the Angel’s body.

“It hurts, okay?” she shouts. “Piloting hurts, because I can’t fucking do it anymore. I’m not the best, I’m not the favorite, I’m not even confident. There’s no reason for me to be here any longer. They’ll probably take me away from you after this mission is done, so just- just do this for me, you understand?” Asuka lifts Unit-02’s head, directing it at Unit-00. “I don’t care anymore! I don’t care about piloting! It’s stupid, _I’m_ stupid, and I don’t care what happens to me, just help me! Just one more time! I don’t need to be the best, I don’t need to pilot, just get that thing off Rei so she’ll be safe! Just give me this!”

The inside of the EVA is silent, save for the Angel’s insidious snickering. Asuka knows already what it wants to tell her: that such an act was futile, and both she and Rei are going to die.

Unit-02’s good arm goes limp, dropping the pallet rifle. From the radio comes more shouting: a declaration that Asuka’s sync ratio has suddenly hit 0; that Rei’s EVA is 90% contaminated and increasing rapidly. Then, amidst the chaos, she hears the whir of servos behind her. Red letters plaster themselves across the viewscreen, blocking Unit-00 from Asuka’s field of vision: SELF DESTRUCT ACTIVATED - CORE INVERTING.

“I see,” Asuka whispers. “We’ll still be together, then. They won’t take you from me.” Asuka places her hands on the control sticks, holding them as if she’s holding another person’s hands. The Angel is shrieking, its physical form jerking in all directions, and Asuka sees it withdraw from Unit-00’s body, being pulled into the chest of Unit-02.

“Asuka?” Misato says. “Asuka, eject. Do you hear me? Eject!”

Asuka simply shakes her head. She can’t respond to Misato with her radio disabled, and she doesn’t want to. This moment is for her alone, and for Unit-02.

A second voice echoes in the entry plug, seemingly closer, and it’s not the Angel. “Soryu,” Rei says, and for the first time, she sounds distressed. “Asuka?”

“This is a pretty good end, isn’t it?” Asuka asks her EVA. “Go on. You don’t have to wait. Do it once you’ve got the Angel.”

The last bit of the Angel disappears, thrashing wildly, into Unit-02. The humming grows louder, the entire entry plug beginning to shake. Asuka shuts her eyes and leans back, wondering if there’s still time to turn her radio on and say something to Rei, if there’s anything that can be said at all. She thinks it might sound something like _I’m glad I got to know you_ .

Suddenly Asuka feels herself being pressed down hard into the seat. The entry plug is shooting skyward, rocketing away into the forest. The viewscreen cuts out, and Asuka is surrounded by the dark interior of the the plug, slowly reaching the peak of her ascent and preparing for the long fall.

Her arm no longer hurts. She’s free of the Angel and alone, but for an instant there’s light, what must be the EVA’s explosion, only this light is wrapping something similar to arms around Asuka’s shoulders, and she hears a voice that not even the Angel was able to mimic.

_You must live, Asuka. Live the life I could never give to you._

The entry plug begins hurtling one end over the other through the forest, caught in the tail end of the explosion. It smacks against something hard- a tree- and stops. For several seconds the LCL around Asuka heats up, threatening to scald her unprotected skin and fuse the plugsuit to whatever is covered.

Then the plug tilts on its side, falling one last time to the forest floor. The explosion, having run its course, leaves behind a gaping crater into which water from a nearby lake is pouring; Unit-00 stands intact at one end of the forming pond, and Asuka in her entry plug lies on the other side, still curled up and succumbing at last to the gentle lure of sleep.

* * *

There’s nothing salvageable from Unit-02 save for Asuka’s entry plug and a few scraps of metal thrown clear of the blast site. The Angel is definitely gone, but still the containment teams came and cleared Rei out from Unit-00, and presumably they’ve done the same to Asuka.

Rei hasn’t seen the Second Child, and she hasn’t been brought to the quarantine room that Rei is in. The presence of a single bed implies that Asuka won’t be joining her here. The possibility is open that Asuka might be dead, but it can’t be- someone had to pull the emergency eject lever. If not Asuka, then- Rei feels her chest tighten suddenly, painfully- the Angel would have had to be the one.

The door behind Rei rattles and creaks open. Gendo Ikari steps through in just his Commander’s uniform, not bothering with a hazard suit. He knows as much as Rei does that the quarantine is just a matter of protocol, and that Rei isn’t contaminated. The next Angel will come in the body of a human, but that body will not be Rei’s.

“Rei,” the Commander says. He takes in the state of the room and Rei in the center of it, staring blankly back at him. “You’re not in your bed.”

“I am not,” Rei agrees. “Should I be?”

“No. You can stay.” The Commander walks in a slow circle around the room, hugging the walls. “The position of Second Child is being eliminated. Without Unit-02, there’s no need to keep the accompanying pilot.”

The Commander pauses, appearing to inspect the doorway to the bathroom. Rei knows it’s just a ruse; he’s really watching her for a reaction. She turns to look directly at him, keeping her expression flat. He’s waiting for her to say something before he continues; Rei could say nothing, but that might be even more telling.

“Would it be in your interests to keep a backup pilot?” asks Rei.

“No. Neither Unit-00 nor Unit-01 would accept her. She’s too different from you and the Third Child.”

“Understood.”

Gendo moves away from the bathroom and walks over to Rei. He towers over her, orange spectacles flashing menacingly. “You’ve grown close to her,” he says. “Section 2 followed her from the hospital wing the other day. They saw you two meet. She went somewhere with you.”

Rei nods, slowly. She won’t deny what the Commander already knows is fact. He can’t know much more than that, though: he must remain unaware of what was said and what touches were exchanged, or else he wouldn’t be here, talking to her.

“She will be discharged from piloting and returned to NERV-Berlin,” the Commander says. “And you will continue serving your purpose.”

“Yes,” Rei says, the word so automatic to her that it slips past her own disbelieving silence. The Commander keeps watching her expectantly. He wants more than a basic affirmation; he wants reassurance that whatever Asuka and Rei has done has changed nothing, and Rei is still firmly his. “I will help you complete your plan.”

“The day is near.” The Commander starts towards the door, adjusting his gloves. “The last Angel will arrive soon. There can be no mistakes.”

“I understand. If I must die to defeat the Angel, I will. I can be replaced.” Rei sees the Commander nod: a gesture completely devoid of approval, just confirmation of what Rei has said. The Commander leaves the quarantine room, and Rei hears a lock clicking shut, trapping her inside. For protocol purposes, Rei wonders, or to keep Rei inside so she doesn’t wander and try to find Asuka?

Rei goes over to the door, presses her face against it, like she hopes she might somehow feel Asuka in the distance on the other side. If Asuka were here, she would be shouting at Rei, telling her not to be silly and that she couldn’t possibly be replaced. Rei shakes her head, laughing softly. There’s so much Asuka doesn’t know, so much that could endanger her- but she’ll be leaving soon; it won’t matter anyway.

The bed looks soft; it tempts Rei to climb in and go to sleep. Rei finds herself approaching, placing a hand on the blankets. For Asuka’s own safety, Rei realizes, they cannot meet again. Anything that can be interpreted as a threat to the Commander’s plan gets eliminated, and Asuka’s status as a pilot can no longer protect her. Rei hoists herself up onto the bed, gathering the pillow beneath her, staring forlornly at the door. She prays that it might open and that Asuka might be brought through; she pleads, unheard, for this solitude to be broken. If she could see Asuka one more time before she leaves, then Rei would be content; but no one, not even the Commander, has ever considered for long what might make Rei Ayanami happy.

* * *

The room that Asuka wakes and finds herself in is dark, lit by a single struggling light, and immediately she’s reminded of Rei’s apartment. Asuka sits up, rubbing her arm as she takes in her surroundings. This room is smaller than the one she and Rei had been put in before, and the thin blanket of dust covering everything except her bed tells her that it hasn’t been occupied in some time.

There’s no indication that Rei is alive, but that Asuka is in this hastily thrown together second room tells her there might still be hope. Rei is probably in the original room, being monitored, and once they’ve determined she isn’t contaminated, she’ll be let out. Why they’re separate is Asuka’s guess- maybe Rei is showing symptoms that Asuka is not.

Asuka pulls her knees up to her chest and stares at the wall, where the cracks between the metal plates have been filled by rust. Unit-02 is gone. She traded it for Unit-00 and for Rei, and all of her aches for the presence of the latter.

There’s no mistaking or denying what two Angels have now said to Asuka. What feelings she has for Rei Ayanami are still nebulous and undefined, but they exist, and roar at Asuka in force for her to act.

She entertains, as she once did with Kaji and with Shinji, the thought of loving the First Child. There isn’t much that springs to mind; she conjures no vivid fantasies of dates and romance, but of quiet afternoons spent in one of their rooms, simply leaning up against each other, and letting that be all that’s said. It’s not a future she’d wished for, but it’s one she finds herself strangely satisfied with. Having Rei as company would be a pleasant change, the likes of which Asuka has gone without for the majority of her life.

More than that, she realizes, she’ll have someone who understands her in a way that no one else can, not even her stepmother. There’s something about Rei that lends to her being Asuka’s choice; there isn’t anyone else in her life as there is someone in Kaji’s, and she doesn’t pose a threat to Asuka like Shinji does. They are, the two of them, connected in a way that only those who have been spoken to by Angels can be, and yet distinct from Shinji, whose only encounter with an Angel was in the solitude of its shadow.

Of course, Rei might not feel the same. There’s a line that has to be drawn between one’s hopes and careless naivete. Knowing Rei, she’ll take Asuka’s confessing as she does everything else, with a brusque nod and subsequent return to whatever she was doing before.

She had said Asuka’s name, though. Asuka heard it; it’s haunted her mind since, a tantalizing possibility of something that could be, if only Asuka could muster the courage to try and seize it. The chances of her doing that seem far too slim: the world and Asuka’s constant fights against the Angels have ebbed her confidence away to the point where even speaking to Rei about this is too daunting a task to attempt.

There’s nothing to lose, though. Unit-02 is gone, and the worst that might happen- the worst thing Asuka can inflict upon herself now- is to learn that she’s read Rei wrong this whole time, and she wants nothing to do with an Asuka who isn’t a pilot.

Asuka lies back down, hiding her eyes behind her arm. Nothing good can come of this continuous worrying, but still she thinks of Rei and wonders if, somehow, those rare and fleeting dreams in which she isn’t alone might become a reality.

She’ll have to talk to Rei about this. As soon as they’re out of quarantine, Asuka thinks, she’ll find her way to Rei and confront her. She would rather it be Rei who receives this first, awkward confession of- she hesitates to call it _love_ \- affection, then, than someone like Shinji.

In the morning, she’ll find Rei, and see if what the Angels told her was right after all. Until then, Asuka waits in the silence of the makeshift containment room. She realizes, surrounded by something similar to the apartment Rei’s lived in her whole life, that the look on Rei’s face as she stared out the classroom window really was just loneliness, and not the profound wanderings of Rei’s mind that Asuka had believed it to be.

* * *

The containment team lets Asuka out before the 24 hours are up. Instead of releasing her, they turn her over to a pair of men in suits- Section 2, Asuka thinks- and they guide her deeper into NERV, taking the elevator up to the command center.

Misato is there in her uniform, talking to Ritsuko as they both lean over a console, though Misato straightens up and blocks Asuka’s view of it as she approaches.

“What’s this about?” Asuka says. “You didn’t find something wrong with me, did you?”

“No, your scans came back clean,” Misato replies. “I’ll make this quick, Asuka. You’re leaving Tokyo-3 tonight.”

“What?!”

“Since Unit-02 is destroyed, Commander Ikari has deemed that you’re only a liability if you stay here. We don’t have any EVAs to spare, and we don’t want you to be collateral damage. The best course of action is to return you to NERV-Berlin.”

“You’re joking, right?” Asuka looks from Misato to the back of Doctor Akagi, even to the unmoving faces of her guards, as if someone is going to suddenly speak and contradict Misato. “You can’t just make me leave like this,” she says. “What about the others? I can’t leave them like this!”

“You’re going to.” Misato reaches into her jacket and pulls out a small envelope, passing it to Asuka. “Inside here is your ticket back to Germany and the necessary paperwork. It’s already been cleared with both governments. Section 2 will take you back to my apartment so you can gather whatever you can fit into your luggage. The rest will be shipped back to you.”

“Wait,” Asuka says. “Why this all of a sudden? What if Shinji gets hurt, or Rei? Why can’t I pilot then?”

“These are orders from the Commander, Asuka.” Misato folds her arms across her chest, and that’s enough to tell Asuka that Misato disagrees too, though she’s not saying it aloud. “You’re going to Germany, and if we need you, we’ll call you back.”

“This is stupid,” Asuka mumbles. She clenches the envelope tightly, wrinkling it and the papers inside.

“You’ll be taken to the locker rooms to change, then back to my apartment. You have until the afternoon to pack whatever you need. Section 2 will come later tonight and take you to the airport.”

“So that’s how it’s gonna be.” Asuka looks down and tugs one of the papers out of the envelope. Her smiling face, the same one that’s on her NERV ID card, looks back at her; Asuka scowls and tries not to feel sick. “Fine,” she says. “But tell these guys to wait outside for me. I don’t need a stupid escort to the lockers.”

Misato nods to the men in suits, and they peel away, walking in lockstep back to the elevator. “This isn’t what I wanted either,” Misato says to her. “It’s just what needs to happen.” She offers Asuka what might be a shrug, and Asuka knows this is as close Misato will ever come to saying she cares about her.

“Alright. I’ll see you at the apartment.”

Already Asuka hears her voice taking on that resigned, defeated tone she hates. She leaves the command center and heads for the locker rooms, clenching and unclenching her hands and watching the plugsuit move with them. It’ll be her last time changing out of one of these, and the last time she has to wear that silly, unwieldy uniform. She should be glad: she’s leaving the things that annoy her behind, but she’s also leaving Rei, and unspoken words that need to be addressed.

Or perhaps it’ll be better this way. There are others in Germany that Asuka thinks she might fall for; this way, she won’t have to face the possibility of failure, of being turned down by Rei Ayanami, of all people. Without EVA around, she’ll be able to remake herself-

Asuka stops in front of the locker rooms, for a moment unable to figure out how to work the door handle. The task before her seems insurmountable: the creation of an Asuka without her reliance on EVA, or the burning drive to prove herself the best. There will be no one to compete with, no competition to return home to, just her single-room dwelling at the NERV-Berlin facility and whatever comforts she’d chosen to leave behind when she first came to Japan.

She imagines somehow finding a way to stay here. She imagines watching Rei from a distance and huddling in shelters when the Angels come, but even this is better than having to return to Germany and being alone there, as she’d been before she met the other pilots. She wants to believe they’ll miss her, but if that’s too much to ask, she’ll be content with having met them and feeling Rei’s hand in hers.

Asuka sits down on the bench, holding the envelope with both hands. She knows what has to be done in the limited time she has, but she can’t bring herself to get out of the plugsuit, nor to begin the process of removing herself from NERV. She hopes, despite knowing it will not happen, that Rei will find her way to the locker room while Asuka is still inside, and she’ll have the chance she’d rehearsed the whole night long, so this parting will not have to be so bitter.

* * *

The usual plainclothes escort is waiting for Rei as she steps out of quarantine, walking slowly towards the elevator that will take her to the surface. The hospital wing is, as always, cold and devoid of other people. Today it’s a little too empty; there’s no sign of Asuka, and all the other rooms stand vacant and empty with their doors open, as if to tell Rei that under no circumstances will she be seeing Asuka.

The Section 2 agents follow Rei into the elevator and stand on either side of her, arms clasped together in front of them. They are dedicated, Rei thinks, to their missions, much like she is; only they know not what they work towards. The Commander won’t have trusted them with the details of his plan, not when he’s only told Rei what she absolutely has to know. They won’t know what to look for, what signs there are that Rei Ayanami is beginning to stray from the appointed scenario.

“I did not see the Second Child in the hospital wing,” Rei says, keeping her tone disinterested. She must do this, in spite of what she would like to do, so her curiosity can be passed off as a need to adhere to protocol. “She came into contact with the Angel. Has she been properly isolated?”

“The former Second?” one of her guards says. “Yes. She was discharged earlier today to prepare for her departure.”

“Departure?”

“She’s been released from the EVA program. She’ll be returning to NERV-Berlin.”

“I see.”

The silence from before returns, though for Rei it’s now become charged with a sense of dread that congregates in the hollow that’s torn itself into being in her chest. This is one way to ensure Rei is separated from any distraction; there’s reason enough for Asuka to be sent away, but Rei knows this for what it is: a reminder that the only thing that should matter to her is the plan, and nothing else.

Asuka is leaving. The elevator doors open and Rei walks out, following the faint trail of sunlight towards the city, where she’ll begin the journey back to her apartment. Asuka won’t be there as she’d hoped, nor will she ever visit, as Rei believed she might. Asuka will be leaving soon, though it’s probably for the best. She’ll be out of range of Gendo’s schemes, and unable to be further hurt by the Angels.

Rei turns onto the street that leads towards the edge of the city. Already in the distance she can see the hazy outline of her apartment block, and in her mind, she’s back in the entry plug, shutting out the sight of a street she’s traversed too many times.

Asuka is leaving, and with her will go her emotions, which Rei has not only grown accustomed to, but embraced. There’ll be no more outbursts, just the remnants of whatever feeling Rei has managed to pick up from her and the dead silence she’ll leave behind, like the one that surrounds Rei now. Rei looks down at her hand, the one Asuka held. She’ll have that to remember Asuka by, too, something the Commander can never take from her, probably something that Asuka barely regards herself.

Rei remembers, though. She holds that hand close to her as she enters her apartment building, wandering up the stairs in a daze. With Asuka gone, she sees the world as Asuka might have seen it: the rust that clings to the hand rails, the chips in the stairs that indicate where water has flowed, the dismal grey color of unpainted, water-stained walls. This is where the Commander had chosen to house his pilot, and now Rei understands Asuka’s disbelief: this is not a place where someone lives, but is kept.

Rei knows what will greet her when she enters her apartment. There will be the bandages on the floor, the pills on her desk she was never given a reason to take other than she must, and the Commander’s orange glasses beside those, cracked and staring at her like always. Rei goes over to the glasses and picks them up, holding them in both hands. It had seemed to her a long time ago that the act of saving her was the most unremarkable, needless decision, and she’d chosen to appreciate it. She knows better, now. If she were truly replaceable, Shinji and Asuka wouldn’t have bothered with trying to protect her.

The cracks in the glasses splinter further, audibly. Rei is no longer looking at them. She stares at the wall, a terrible blankness on her face; this is not what Commander Ikari would want her to feel, but she’s through with what he wants. She’ll still carry out his plan, if only to spare the world from what SEELE would inflict, but handing control of Instrumentality to him is no longer an option.

She can do this, but Asuka will still be gone. The metal in Rei’s hands begins to twist and buckle. What point was there in listening to Asuka when she would be forced to leave? It would’ve been better if she’d never tried to speak to Rei again after their first interaction, if she’d just believed that Rei could be replaced and never pushed the matter.

Before she realizes what she’s doing, Rei draws her arm back and hurls Gendo’s glasses as hard as she can. They spiral across the room and smash into the opposite wall with a faint tinkling of glass. The remnants of it glitter from the ground, the same shade as LCL, reflecting Rei as she walks over. Rei sees herself in them: the heaving of her chest, the stricken look on her face that could, at any moment, lead to tears.

Rei wrenches herself away from the shards and runs to her bed, throwing herself down on it. She clings to her knees, hugging them to her chest, but it’s not enough. She wishes she could be smaller, wishes that whatever rages inside her would settle so she doesn’t have to feel like her body is on fire. It’s a sensation worse than that of an Angel’s touch, and for the second time, Rei finds herself beginning to cry.

Things were simpler before this, she thinks, and to her horror she hears her sobs beginning to fill the room, no longer able to be controlled. Now she realizes her mistake. The pursuit of emotions was one that was kept from her with good reason; things were simpler without them, and Asuka’s tantrums were things that could be ignored and brushed aside.

Now, one is upon her. Rei doesn’t know whether it’d be better for her to try and wait it out, or to scream and let it rip loose from her. She no longer has Asuka as her guide, and it eats at her: the anger and the loneliness, raking with sharp claws at the unguarded frailness of her heart. Rei squeezes her burning eyes shut and pulls the bed sheet over her, as if somehow this might seal her off from the rest of the world, and in doing so ease her torment. All this does is remind her that Asuka is gone, and Rei won’t feel her touch again save for the emotions rising up inside her, Asuka’s last and only gift.

* * *

Asuka’s managed to squeeze four sets of clothes into the tiny bag provided to her, though really, she doesn’t know what else she’s supposed to bring. Tokyo-3 doesn’t lend itself to souvenirs, and four days, even eight, is an optimistic time for everything left in Asuka’s room to be sent overseas.

Asuka zips up her backpack, checking the outermost pocket for the envelope Misato gave her. It’s there, as it’s been the last ten times she looked; it hasn’t obeyed that muted, restrained wish of hers that it might somehow disappear, ensuring she’ll be allowed to stay.

Misato hasn’t come back, as she said she would. Either she’s working on battle strategies for two pilots, or just staying away until Asuka’s gone, so she won’t have to deal with awkward goodbyes. It doesn’t matter to Asuka which one it is. Misato has never cared much for her, and pretending to now will just pour more salt on that wound.

Shinji steps out from his room, wearing a t-shirt and shorts and nothing on his feet. “You’re going?” he asks.

“Yep. Bet you’re finally glad to be rid of me, aren’t you?” Asuka says, without looking at him. “Now you’ll get all of Wonder Girl’s attention, and Misato’s. Maybe you’ll even get to pilot when the next Angel shows up.”

“Asuka, that’s not-” Shinji begins, but Asuka is already throwing her keys onto the kitchen table and walking out the front door. In her experience, Shinji has very little to say worth listening to, and Asuka has a plane to catch. She feels nothing for Shinji’s feeble goodbye, just the sense of a weight vanishing from her chest as she steps into the hall, finally free of the place she could never quite take to calling ‘home’.

There are men from Section 2 waiting outside in a small black car. The last time she saw a car like that, she thinks, was at her mother’s funeral. In some way, this is fitting: this is, in fact, as close to a send off for an EVA pilot as Asuka is likely to get. She gets in, the door is shut behind her, and they’re driving towards the airport; Asuka’s one step closer to going home.

There’s just one thing with this otherwise ideal setup that Asuka might call a problem. She didn’t expect Rei to show up at Misato’s apartment to tell her goodbye, but maybe that was too much to hope for in the first place. Someone like Rei, who has been a consistent, if not reliable pilot, would never see Asuka as anything more than a colleague.

Only, that’s not true. She said she cared. They’d held hands. There’s something to that- a willing exposure to intimacy, perhaps- that makes Asuka unable to believe Rei’s cast her aside so easily. Still, this is a goodbye that would have been better off spoken; Asuka knows it’ll follow her even after she leaves Japan, along with the feelings she’s hidden, never to be spoken of again.

Too soon, the car is pulling up at the airport gate. Asuka grabs her backpack and slides out, moving towards the lines of people checking in to their flights. Asuka’s escort stays long enough to ensure she’s inside before leaving, their duty done. Their departure marks the final change in Asuka’s status; she’s fully civilian now, and once she’s in Germany, she’ll just have to find a way home like everyone else.

Asuka fishes her papers out of her backpack, holds them with both hands. It feels like she’s forgotten something important, but her phone is in her bag and she’s packed her clothes and toiletries. These must just be the nerves that precede departure, and they should subside once she’s taken off.

Nearly through the line, Asuka realizes she’s wrong. She _has_ forgotten something, a promise she’d made, and now Asuka does wish that Rei had shown up, if only so Asuka could remind her that she wouldn’t ever be forgotten, no matter what happens in Tokyo-3.

The line shuffles forward, and now Asuka is at the front. She wordlessly hands her papers over to a man who looks over them carefully, scrutinizing every official stamp. He then hands her a boarding pass, which Asuka takes automatically. She moves off to the side, staring at the small print on the paper she’s been given. There’s a name, a date, and a destination, and she’s struck by the impersonality of it all. Even Shinji would have been able to craft a better farewell, but it’s not his that Asuka wants, only Rei’s.

Asuka swings her backpack from one shoulder, grabbing it and stuffing the papers back inside its front pocket. There are a few hours to kill before the flight boards, hours that Asuka knows will be filled with thoughts of the Angels and Rei, and what she’s leaving behind. This isn’t how things should end, she thinks. Here in this city she’s found at last something that matters to her as much as EVA, maybe even more. Leaving that behind would be not just foolish, but wasteful.

Asuka tightens her grip on her bag, looking around to see if anyone is watching. No one appears to be, and there’s no sign of Section 2. No one stops her as she marches out the entrance, and no one blinks an eye as Asuka begins walking down the road back towards the city. They’re all concerned with leaving, getting out before the next attack. Briefly, Asuka reconsiders- should she be among them?- but keeps walking. She must trust that what Rei had said is true, and that if it is, Rei will take care of her. Even if that’s not the case, whatever end Asuka might meet at the Angel’s hands is better than what awaits her in Berlin. With or without Rei, she’ll be met with a pilot’s death here; but before that, she must meet with Rei and tell her what needs to be said, so the aching in her chest might finally subside.

And if Asuka is lucky- if her status as a pilot truly meant nothing to Rei- maybe they’ll hold hands again.

* * *

Nightfall in Tokyo-3 is usually marked by Rei preparing to go to sleep, so that in the morning she’ll be rested for whatever may come, Angel or not. Tonight, still curled beneath her bed sheets, she thinks she might not be able to sleep, not now or maybe ever again. Asuka’s absence has torn open the emotions she’s kept bottled back, and now in the silence all the doubts she’d ever had about the Commander’s plan are plaguing her, too.

As if they’ve come to life, as if Rei’s constant thought has summoned her worries into reality, there’s a knock on the door. The door, Rei realizes, must be locked. She must have done so in her blind retreat to the only place she might call a safe haven, and in doing so revealed to whoever’s outside the depths of what troubles her.

Rei pushes off the blankets and tries to rub the redness from around her eyes, but she knows it’s no use. She’s been crying too hard and long to conceal it as anything else. Now the Commander will know, and force Rei to acknowledge that she’s been emotionally compromised, and Rei knows what will await her when she says those words. She thinks of the clone bodies in the dummy plug plant, waiting for the day when they might receive the soul taken from Rei, and in that moment it feels like Asuka is there with her; they’re both replaceable, and now it’s Rei’s turn.

Rei goes to the door and pulls back the lock, but no one throws it open and storms inside. In fact, she can’t hear anything out there. Whoever’s outside is content to wait, then; of course the Commander wouldn’t come to take her away in person. When Rei Ayanami outlives her usefulness, he will want nothing more to do with her.

At least, Rei thinks in her disjointed panic, at least Asuka isn’t here. She won’t have to deal with the new clone, nor realize that the time to keep her promise has come. She’ll live on believing Rei is alive- she’ll be happy in Germany- that’s enough for Rei, whether it’s true or not.

She opens the door, looking up expectantly, and finds herself looking at nothing but the apartments opposite hers on the next floor up. Below that, a familiar shade of red that Rei knows all too well. Her heart soars as her gaze drops. Asuka is standing there, wearing her old school uniform and backpack, staring at the ground like it’s the most interesting thing there.

“Soryu?” she whispers disbelievingly. Asuka looks up, wets her lips with her tongue, and ducks her head back down again. She’s staring, Rei notices, not at the ground but at Rei’s shadow, which protrudes forth from the apartment, spurred on by the sparse sunlight coming through the far window.

“Rei?” Asuka says, and she manages to pack so much into that little word that anything more might make it unravel, and Asuka herself might fall apart. She’s wound up tighter than clockwork, wringing the straps of her backpack. Asuka shudders a little, a tremor that passes through her like a cold wind. And then it occurs to Rei that this might be a dream; she’s never seen Asuka so tired and strained like this, so maybe this isn’t Asuka that’s really at her door, but the Asuka that Rei wishes she’d find there.

“I thought you left,” whispers Rei. “Section 2 told me so.” Surely now is when the dream will begin to unravel, and she’ll wake up with no one in her doorway and Asuka on a plane to Berlin.

“Yeah. I’m supposed to be gone.” Asuka laughs at a joke that Rei doesn’t understand; her hands uncurl, and her backpack slips from her shoulders onto the floor.

“Then why did you stay?”

“Because-” Asuka gulps down a breath, struggling not just for air, but for the right words to say. Her eyes do not look at Rei, nor inside the apartment. Asuka is staring at the ceiling rather pointedly, with such force that Rei looks up too, nearly expecting to see something there. With each breath she takes, Rei thinks she might finally try and speak, but all Asuka does is sway from one side to the other, as if her body is here but her soul is trying to take off and leave with the plane that’s now heading for Germany. At last Asuka levels her gaze at Rei, and it seems like she’s found whatever she’s needed- the words, the courage- to talk to Rei.

“I love you,” she whispers in a voice so soft it could barely be called speaking. Rei steps toward her, head tilted slightly, not quite understanding what Asuka is trying to say. “I couldn’t go without telling you that. I had to tell you.” Now Asuka’s composure is gone, and she watches Rei with the desperation that comes from knowing her future will depend on Rei’s answer. “You said you cared about me,” she adds, a plea for Rei to at least take her in, if she won’t accept Asuka’s feelings.

“I did say that.” Rei reaches out, but it’s only to pick up Asuka’s bag and cradle it in her arms. Here she carries Asuka’s future: the ticket that won’t be used, the clothes that will be the only things Asuka will retain, while the rest of her belongings are sent ahead to a place she will not be. Asuka makes a move toward her, hopelessness flitting across her face, already expecting that Rei will accept her presence out of pity, but nothing more than that.

“I was worried I would never see you again,” Rei says. She brings the bag into her apartment and sets it on the kitchen counter, Asuka following her like a lost child. When she turns back, Asuka is standing next to her, still looking dumbfounded. “I told you, before, that it was because of you that I wished to feel emotions.”

“Yes.”

They’re standing far too close to one another for it to be anything but deliberate. Asuka breathes shallowly, waiting for Rei to do something else. What she needs, Rei realizes, is something definitive; Asuka is expecting a sign that she’s failed, and that’s the opposite of what Rei wants to give her.

Rei wraps her arms around Asuka’s back, catching her by surprise. They stagger against the counter, dislodging unwashed forks and spoons, which clatter to the floor around their feet. Asuka kicks one clear across the room, where it skitters under the bed; Asuka’s head follows it, but then Rei’s fingers are twined in her hair, holding Asuka’s face against hers, and there’s a wetness on both their cheeks that Rei can’t put an origin to.

“You’ll stay with me, right?” Rei asks her. Asuka nods, jerking her head up and down. Rei holds her tighter and feels Asuka doing the same, grabbing fistfuls of fabric from Rei’s shirt, Asuka’s own way of confirming that this is real. Rei brings her hand around and touches Asuka’s cheek. She can feel the warmth coming off Asuka’s skin, and this time when she lets go of Asuka, their hands connect and intertwine, the motion so natural that it seems like each of them had practiced this a thousand times in secret just for this moment.

* * *

From the kitchen they’d staggered over to Rei’s bed, still holding hands. It was Rei who yawned first, signalling the need for sleep, which Asuka quickly echoed. Ironically enough, the act of not leaving Tokyo-3 has tired her out more than going to Germany would have. It’s the walk, Asuka thinks; it had to be the walk.

Or, maybe it’s because she’s insisted on arranging the chairs in Rei’s apartment- all two of them- into a makeshift bed for herself. She’s laid one bundle of clothes beneath her head for a pillow, and her spare jacket is her blanket. It isn’t the same as being in Rei’s bed, but Rei hasn’t offered, and Asuka isn’t one to bridge a gap she isn’t sure should be addressed, let alone crossed.

“Soryu?” Rei says. Her voice is a little stronger, and the circles under her eyes have all but faded, though a hint of the redness still lingers. “When was your flight supposed to leave?”

“I dunno.” Asuka tilts her head and looks at her bag, still on the kitchen counter where Rei left it. “Sometime in the night. Why?”

“When it arrives in Germany, NERV will know you were not on it.”

“So?” Asuka chuckles. “Where are they gonna look? Everyone thinks I hate you, remember?”

“No,” whispers Rei, but Asuka doesn’t hear her. She doesn’t know, she can’t ever know what the Commander spoke about to Rei in the quarantine room. It might be a long shot that he’ll guess Asuka is staying in Rei’s apartment, but there’s no telling for certain what he might or might not know.

“Besides,” Asuka continues. “I don’t really care. I’m here with you.”

“Choosing not to return to your home is not a logical choice, Soryu.”

“Me, logical? I thought you knew me better.”

“Yes. I suppose that is true,” Rei says. Asuka laughs, and Rei finds herself smiling along. A moment later, that smile fades. Now that Asuka has chosen to stay, she’ll be here when the next Angel comes, and beyond that, she’ll be here when Gendo executes his plan. No shelter can protect her then, nor will EVA- it’ll be up to Rei, then. She’ll defend Asuka as Asuka has protected her, and then they’ll be even.

Asuka shifts around on her chair-bed, and the chairs’ metal legs scrape across the floor. Rei sits up, looking over at her. “Soryu?” she asks. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“I’ll be fine,” Asuka replies. Rei’s heard those words enough times to know what they really mean.

“If you are are uncomfortable, why don’t you join me?”

“Because…” Asuka draws the word out as she rolls over, taking in the bed and Rei. “Because it looks like it’ll fall apart if I lie on it wrong? And because it’s your bed?”

“I did not anticipate that a bed would be the thing to stop Asuka Langley Soryu.”

“I’m just thinking of you,” Asuka says. “I mean, you’d rather sleep on a bed than a mattress on the floor, right?”

“I would rather you have a good night’s sleep.” Rei moves over to the side of the bed, adjusting the covers so there’s room for someone to slip beneath them. “Do not make me come over and retrieve you, Soryu.”

“I’ll come over if you stop calling me that,” Asuka says. “I’m not a pilot anymore. You don’t have to call me by my last name.”

“Would you prefer I didn’t?”

“Yeah. I mean…” Asuka stands and makes her way over to Rei’s bed, lugging her bundle of clothes and jacket along with her. She sets the first by Rei’s pillow and drapes the second partly over Rei, so they’ll be sharing its warmth. “‘Soryu’ makes it sound like I’m grown, doesn’t it?” she asks. “I’m just fourteen. I’m not even an EVA pilot anymore. It’d be pathetic if I kept asking you to call me that.”

“Is that what you really think?”

“I…”

Asuka doesn’t continue. Rei adjusts the sheet and jacket around both of them, pulling them up to cover their necks. She settles her head on the pillow, carefully regarding Asuka. “I do not think that is pathetic,” she whispers. Beneath the covers, her hand finds Asuka’s again, and it’s Asuka who grabs on first this time. “I think it is brave of you to want to be close to someone else.”

“That’s not it,” Asuka says. “Shinji called me Asuka, and we weren’t close at all.”

“You know what I mean.” Rei’s other hand reaches out, pressing flat against Asuka’s chest, where she feels the beating of Asuka’s heart. They both know the exact moment when it starts to speed up, but Rei just smiles and keeps her hand there. “You called me Rei.”

“And saying I love you doesn’t count for anything?”

“That is why you came back. It’s not the same as why you called me that.”

“It isn’t?”

“Asuka.” Rei leans closer, a shine in her eyes despite the total darkness of the room around them. Asuka shudders, her breath staggering for the half a second it takes for her to realize Rei's said her name, and now she relaxes, as if all along she's been waiting to hear the sound of it. “We are no longer alone,” Rei says, and though Asuka jerks back a little, she does not remove herself from Rei’s touch.

“I know,” she whispers. Her hand curls around Rei’s, keeping it there. Rei watches Asuka’s eyes slide shut, her heartbeat slowing as she succumbs to sleep willingly. A moment later, Rei does the same, and feels it tug at the edges of her consciousness. She will go with it, much like Asuka has, for they’re both secure in the knowledge that whatever dreams may come there’s someone waiting; if not in the dream itself, then in the waking world to greet them.


	9. Theia

For Asuka, the gift of dreamless sleep is something she's so used to going without that its presence surprises her even more than the act of waking with Rei in her arms does. The room around them is still dark; a hint of gold peeking through the crack under Rei’s door tells Asuka that it’s morning. There’s a restless feeling growing in her stomach. Asuka shifts around, stretching sore legs and arms cramped from being wrapped around Rei all night.

Rei’s hand, resting on Asuka’s shoulder, wanders vaguely down her chest. Another moment, and Rei is gazing up at Asuka, bewildered. She’s working through the same thought process that Asuka’s just finished, one that begins with _why are you here_ and ends with _I’m not letting go of you._

“Good morning,” Asuka whispers, sliding a hand along Rei’s back. Even beneath her shirt, her skin is soft, though broken by the occasional ridge of a scar obtained from piloting. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.” Under the sheets, Rei reaches for Asuka’s arms and finds them, grips them gently. “Did you?”

“What do you think?”

Rei merely hums, pressing the side of her face to Asuka’s chest. Her touch is light, scarcely there. Asuka’s hand wanders into her hair, and that is soft, too.

“Soryu?” Rei says. Asuka shakes her head. “Asuka,” she tries again, and feels the tension rising in Asuka’s chest as she takes in a breath. “Did you mean what you said last night?”

“That I love you?” Asuka nods: slowly at first, like she’s trying to persuade herself, then definitively. “I meant it. I couldn’t leave here without telling you.”

“Why not?”

“It felt wrong, alright?” Asuka is strangely defensive, hunching up her shoulders against Rei and her constant questions. It’s true that she loves Rei, but it’s also true that it’s far too easy for her to be hurt once she lets her guard down. Rei senses this; she tries to pull back, but Asuka keeps her where she is.

“Asuka?”

“Don’t say anything.” What should come out as an order emerges as a strained, quavering plea. Asuka dips her head and buries her face in Rei’s hair, not quite crying, but she’s close to it. Just being here in Rei’s apartment has opened up the possibility that what the Angels showed her might be _right,_ and that one day Rei will tell her to leave. Depending on what type of Angels attack, it might even be an inevitability.

Rei manages to free her hands from under Asuka’s and presses them to either side of Asuka’s face. Asuka trembles from head to toe, unable to speak or look at Rei. Her mouth hangs open, the words she wants to say lost somewhere in thought, but Rei will be content to wait for as long as Asuka needs. No time can be considered ‘wasted’ when they’re here, no matter how heavy the silence.

“You know,” Asuka says at last. “Do you remember when we were in my room before the- before that Angel attacked? I never got to tell you what I wanted to say.”

“It doesn’t matter now-”

“It does. I wanted to tell you then that I never really did hate you, Rei. Maybe if I did, all of this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You cannot blame yourself.”

“What, like you can stop me?!”

Asuka recoils suddenly, as if it’s she who’s been yelled at, shrinking away from Rei’s touch. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, shutting her eyes. “I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t do anything. I still can’t.”

“You don’t have to.” Rei reaches for Asuka’s chin, lifting her head so their eyes meet. “You _have_ protected me, twice. You may not have accomplished what Ikari has, but that does not make you inferior. Without you, the EVA program would not be what it is. Without you, I would feel nothing.”

“You would’ve learned to feel, anyways.”

“You have done more than you believe, Asuka.” Rei tilts her head forward, presses their foreheads together. Asuka stops moving, and even her breathing is stilled. The birdsong from outside fills the apartment, but dares not come into the space between them, however little that is.

Asuka knows what Rei has said is true, but can’t bring herself to acknowledge it. She’d expected Rei to agree and confirm her failings, reject and shatter the little shards of hope she’s scraped up from within. Instead, she’s being given the only things Rei has to offer: her gentle touch and the soft, reassuring sound of her voice.

It must be true, then, what Rei’s said. Asuka dares to grab Rei’s hand and finds herself being held in turn. Asuka inches closer, and Rei doesn’t move away. She doesn’t know what she’s trying to do, but this closeness is intoxicating, and Asuka can see herself reflected in Rei’s big, wide eyes-

Rei’s phone goes off on the side table, and Rei is swinging her legs over the side of the bed, picking it up and answering it. She doesn’t say anything but a simple “yes”, and as soon as that’s done she’s moving towards the closet, picking out fresh clothes.

“Rei?” Asuka asks. Her voice is not the only thing shaking; her body is, too, so badly that she thinks she might be rattling the bed. Her heartbeat roars in her ears, painful, nearly drowning out the words she’s struggling to form. “What is it?” Asuka scrambles to the end of the bed in a desperate, unsynchronized bundle of limbs. “Did I do something wrong?”

“It is not that.” Rei does up the buttons on her uniform shirt with exquisite care, not quite looking back at Asuka. Already she’s distant, having retreated back into the identity of the formal, rigid First Child. “I must go to NERV. The Commander wishes to speak to me.”

“Did he say what about?”

“Only that it must be discussed in person. I assume it has to do with the future of EVA.”

Rei pulls up her skirt, and she’s ready to go. Asuka watches her walk towards the door, and there’s that feeling she’s dreaded, creeping up on her, settling as a chill at the base of her spine. “You…” she begins, and stops.

“What is it?”

“You’re going to come back, right?”

Rei turns around, and for a terrible moment it feels as though she isn’t there, like Asuka is the only one in the apartment. Then the warmth returns to Rei’s eyes and they soften, regarding Asuka with the gentleness from the night before. “Yes,” Rei says. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

“Be careful, okay?”

“I will. You, too.”

Before Asuka can say anything more, Rei is out the door and gone, the sound of her footsteps rapidly fading into the silence. Asuka stays sitting up on the bed, clutching the sheets with both hands. She listens until there’s nothing to hear beside the sounds her ears try to trick her into believing are real, and then she lies back against the bed, built in mind for one, but somehow now far too big for Asuka alone to occupy.

* * *

 

Commander Ikari is sitting at his desk as always, but today he doesn’t rise to greet Rei as she approaches, nor offer her any acknowledgement beyond the cold, measured recitation of his orders for her.

“SEELE sent over a Fifth Child last night, despite there currently being no EVA for him to pilot.” The Commander’s hands are folded, one over the other, atop a stack of papers on his desk. Rei nods curtly, a gesture that shows she understands and will obey, that betrays none of her thoughts to the Commander.

“SEELE’s excuse is that he is being sent over to bolster our numbers, after which they’ll send over the EVA they’re building for him, as soon as it’s complete. I believe we both understand the truth behind this.”

“The Fifth Child is a spy,” Rei says. The words taste sour in her mouth: she doesn’t want there to be a Fifth, she’d rather they kept the Second. “I am to keep watch over him.”

“Yes. There is also good reason to believe he is the means by which the last Angel will attack. He has already approached the Third Child and tried to speak with him. He may try to subvert you, too.”

“He will not. My mission is clear.”

“There’s something else you need to know.” The Commander stands, towering over his desk and Rei. “Last night, there was an incident involving Doctor Akagi and your clone bodies. Akagi has been detained and can do no further damage, but for the sake of the plan, you cannot afford any careless mistakes.” The Commander leans down, and it takes everything in Rei’s power not to tremble as she holds her ground. “You understand what I am saying, correct?”

“I…” Rei whispers hesitantly. “There are no more replacements?”

“Yes. You’re the only one left.”

“I see.” Rei isn’t sure what it is that makes her take a step back from the Commander’s desk. It might be that his staring has finally gotten to her, or the weight of the world that’s been kept off her by the presence of the other bodies has finally settled on her all at once. The Commander lifts an eyebrow, studying Rei carefully.

“There’s one last thing,” he says. Without looking, he rifles through the papers and extracts one, holding it with the print facing towards him. “Do you know the location of the former Second Child?”

“The Second?” Rei cannot bring her eyes to meet the Commander’s; she looks instead at the paper he’s holding, as if she might somehow see through it and suddenly know what she must say. “I have not seen her recently. Has something happened?”

“She was supposed to land in Germany this morning,” the Commander says, sitting back down. He shoves the paper, face up, across his desk. It’s a surveillance report from NERV-Berlin, faxed over. “Since she wasn’t on the plane, it would be safe to assume she’s still somewhere in the area.”

“Do you wish for me to find her?”

“I think we already know the answer to that.” The Commander draws out each word, slowly leaning back in his chair and folding his hands together again. “The area around your apartment is currently not under active surveillance. As long as you continue to abide by our plan, there will be no need for it. Is this clear?”

“Yes,” Rei says. The word leaves her as but a strangled whisper, and she knows it’s not a trick of the light that’s making it look like the Commander is smiling.

“That’s all you needed to know. You may go.”

Rei does not try to venture a goodbye, but turns and leaves immediately. She doesn’t want to speak now, not when her thoughts must be dedicated to the debate of what to tell Asuka when she returns. She can’t lie to Asuka, not when it would be seen through easily; besides, Asuka deserves the truth, though it’s yet another thing she can’t be given.

Rei finds herself, soon enough, in an elevator headed towards the surface. Though it’s empty, Rei stands in front of the doors, watching the floors tick slowly upwards. It’s quiet enough that she could imagine Asuka standing behind her, arms folded across her chest, glowering at her. How long, Rei wonders, had Asuka felt that way; had those rare moments in which they were alone together been fragments of a prolonged and muted cry for her feelings to be answered?

The elevator stops at last, but this isn’t the floor where Rei wants to be. The doors open, and a boy with silver hair and a white shirt steps in, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dress pants. The Fifth, Rei thinks, pushing the ‘up’ button with a hint more urgency than usual.

“You’re the First,” the boy says.

He’s chosen to occupy a corner of the elevator, keeping his distance from Rei. Rei turns, sees that he’s in the back, standing where Asuka had. Her hands tense, as if in preparation for a fight. _He shouldn’t be there_ , something inside her is saying, _that’s where Asuka goes._

“Rei Ayanami.” The Fifth speaks her name slowly, as if to wrap his mouth around it, see if it has any taste. “I see. You and I are alike.”

“There is nothing similar about us.”

“There is. You and I are-” He pauses, mouth hanging comically open. “I see,” he says. “A part of you is missing.”

“You are speaking nonsense.”

“Am I? A part of your soul is off elsewhere, but you’re not concerned?” The Fifth tilts his head, shaking it slightly. “No, you aren’t. Something else is worrying you. Your… partner?” For a moment, his self-assured air vanishes as the Fifth fumbles for the right words.

“I do not have a partner,” Rei snaps. The Commander had assured her that her apartment wasn’t being bugged, but the elevators might be, and Rei knows more unfriendly ears than just the Fifth might be listening in. “Attempting to confuse me will not serve your purpose any better.”

“I’m trying to help you,” the boy says. “Don’t you want her to be happy?”

Rei turns suddenly, seizing the Fifth Child by the collar of his shirt. “What do you know?” she hisses, watching his face carefully. “How?”

“You care for her,” comes the reply, as if it’s as obvious and natural as breathing. “You were thinking of her before I came in.”

“How would you know-” Rei jerks her hand back, glaring at the boy. “You’re the Angel.”

“Until I decide to be the Angel, I’m just another Lilin like you.”

“I’ve told you already, there’s nothing similar between us.”

“Is there not? We both worry for the fate of someone else we find precious. We know what must happen in the end. To keep them safe, we will have to lose ourselves.”

“If you hurt her-”

“I mean her no harm. I only mean to warn you of what has to happen.”

“You can’t be so certain. You don’t know everything.”

“Do I?” asks the Fifth. He steps around Rei as the elevator begins to slow, approaching the top floor. “I know we will not meet again after this, Rei Ayanami. We both have different parts to play.” The elevator stops, but the doors don’t open. For several long seconds, the two pilot stare at one another, taking in the other’s presence. “The Third,” he says, and he doesn’t sound confident anymore. “Will you take care of him after?”

“After what?”

“After everything.” The Fifth Child reaches into his pocket and pulls out something small and metallic, offering it to Rei. It’s a nameplate, the kind that can be found in the locker rooms, distinguishing which pilot owns which locker. This one reads ‘Kaworu Nagisa’. “Will you give that to him?” Kaworu asks.

“When?” says Rei. “I’m leaving.”

“When he needs it.” Finally, the doors manage to separate themselves and open up. Kaworu stays where he is, nameplate extended, until at last Rei takes it from him. “Thank you,” he murmurs, stepping towards the hall. “I have one more question for you, Rei Ayanami. When you’re near her… do you feel complete?”

“I…” Rei hesitates to answer, for she already knows what she would say; that is, _yes_. “Why do you ask this?”

“I just wondered,” Kaworu says. “When I’m near Shinji, I feel the same way.”

“Ikari?” whispers Rei. “Why?”

“You should know why. You should tell her, too.”

Kaworu doesn’t wait for a response and walks away, heading not for the main corridors, but somewhere else- the maintenance shafts? Rei stands in the intersection, looking in the direction Kaworu had went. He’s an Angel- he’d all but admitted to it- but Rei feels no urge to go after him and stop him. Whatever Kaworu is doing today, his intentions are benign.

Rei tucks the Kaworu’s nameplate away into her uniform, patting it to confirm where she’s placed it. This request of his, to give it to Shinji, seems at first a silly gesture, but Rei knows well enough what he means by it. It will say for him what he can’t say himself, in the same way that Rei, curled up in an entry plug and waiting for the end, had hoped Asuka would remember her.

* * *

Rei’s return to her apartment is marked not by any loud fanfare or reunion, but by the quiet click of the door sliding shut and the sound of Rei slipping out of her shoes. Asuka, lounging haphazardly on the bed with half of her body protruding over the edge, looks up at the apparent disruption, as if wondering if this is real, or she’s just missing Rei so much that she’s hearing things.

When it’s clear that this really is Rei that’s standing there, Asuka is off the bed and halfway across the room in seconds, moving with an urgency that’s not quite been with her since before the Twelfth Angel attacked. “You’re back,” she says, waiting by the kitchen counter: that’s the space she’s unofficially designated as where the front of the apartment ends, and Rei’s room begins. “That was fast. What happened?”

“It was just…” Rei looks at the ground, apparently having forgotten that she’d already taken off her shoes. “The Commander had orders for me,” she says. “We have received a transfer pilot.”

“From where?”

“He did not say.”

“So they already got a replacement for me,” Asuka mutters. “They’ve been waiting this whole time. That’s why he wanted me gone, isn’t it? So there wouldn’t be any trouble?”

She spins around and begins walking around the perimeter of the room, ignoring Rei, who’s slipped over the imagined threshold and is watching Asuka, a hint of a frown on her face.

“They don’t even have an EVA for a new pilot,” continues Asuka. “I bet they were going to use mine, weren’t they?! Well, they thought wrong! Unit-02 is mine!”

“Soryu-”

Asuka doesn’t see Rei step into her path, arm outstretched. She simply pushes Rei to the side and continues pacing, completely occupied by this conversation with herself. “They’ll regret it,” she says. “Just watch. The first fight this new pilot gets into, they’ll scrap their brand new EVA, and _then_ who’s going to be the worst pilot ever?” Asuka’s completed one circuit of the room and started on another one, ignoring Rei, who’s begun to tail her.

“They’re going to regret relying so much on that idiot. He’s going to get himself or someone else hurt, and then they’ll _really_ regret it. Just as long as he doesn’t-”

Asuka stops abruptly. Rei bumps into her from behind, emitting a sound of surprise. She’d forgotten about Rei, however briefly, while she was standing in Rei’s apartment. She’s thought only of herself when there’s Rei to account for now, too. Rei is shaking off their collision, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. She must learn to think of Rei; they’re intertwined for as long as Asuka stays with her, and her former destructive, selfish rampages must become a thing of the past.

“Rei?” Asuka says. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I am not hurt.” Rei scratches the bridge of her nose, then offers Asuka a thin, trembling smile. Now Asuka realizes that something’s wrong, that the problems in this world do not, in fact, home in on her exclusively. Rei continues to stand there, the smile growing drawn-out and tired.

“You know you’re a horrible liar, right?” Asuka goes to touch Rei’s shoulder and watches her shy away, stumbling back. “It’s not about that. I know already. What’s wrong?”

“I… I cannot…” She casts her eyes around the room, searching for a way to answer Asuka. Her gaze falls upon her uniform shirt, and she reaches into her pocket, handing something to Asuka. “Here,” she whispers, hoping this will be enough to dissuade Asuka from asking anything more. “Look.”

“Kaworu?” asks Asuka. “A boy? That’s the new pilot?”

“Yes.”

“Is he good?”

“I… I have not seen him pilot yet.”

Asuka nods and turns the nameplate over in her hands, pretending to inspect it closely. There’s something more than a new pilot and a name that has to be bothering Rei. If Angels and visions hadn’t rattled her this badly, there must be something else at work. She places the nameplate on Rei’s bedside table and goes over to her, reaching for her arms.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” she asks. The lack of a response from Rei is enough of an answer. “What is it? Is… there’s nothing wrong with you, is there?”

“I am fine,” Rei says again. “I…” She registers at last that Asuka’s hand is on her shoulder, and reaches up to touch it. “I must ask a favor of you, Asuka, though you will not like it.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to trust me, and do not ask me anything else.” Her fingers rub slowly across Asuka’s knuckles, as if trying to memorize them just by touch. “There are things about the Angels and NERV that I would like to tell you, but cannot. To do so would endanger you.” She moves closer, pressing herself against Asuka’s body. Asuka places her arms around Rei, supporting her weight, aware of the way Rei is clinging to her.

There are things that should be asked, and then there are those things that were never meant to be known. Asuka looks down, watching as Rei tries to hide her face in the crook of her arm. Some things, Asuka thinks, were never meant for children- and yes, that’s what they are- to have to bear. “Alright,” she whispers, and Rei slumps visibly against her, a low whimper leaving her throat. “I’ll trust you, okay? Just promise you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” says Rei. Asuka looks quickly around the room, wondering what must happen now. Standing like this for too long might invite in whatever Rei’s trying to keep concealed from her, and made all of this a waste.

“Did you eat something?” Asuka asks. “I found the stuff you had in the cabinets. I had some. I’m sorry if you were saving it.”

“It’s alright. I wouldn’t have used it, anyway.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Rei pulls herself upright using Asuka’s shoulders and begins to wander in the direction of the bed, pulling Asuka with her. “I’m not hungry,” she says. “I just… need to lie down.”

“Are you tired?”

“No. I simply feel…” Rei’s face clouds with confusion for a long moment. She pauses her slow trudge to the bed, tightening her grip on Asuka. “When the Angels came, I often felt something before they arrived. It was not fear, but something similar to that.”

“You think an Angel’s coming?”

“The Angels will come regardless of whether I can sense them or not. I must be ready for when they arrive.” With a few more staggering steps, Rei manages to reach the bed and sits down on it, looking expectantly at Asuka. Asuka joins her a second later, and feels Rei’s head press up against her arm.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” asks Asuka. Rei has moved away again; now their bodies are separate, and Rei is pulling the bed sheet over herself, a weary slowness to her movements. Asuka reaches down and taps her hand, then finishes tucking Rei in, covering her with both the single sheet and her jacket. It’s all Asuka can do, but before she can stand and leave the bed, she feels Rei’s fingers tapping at the side of her thigh.

“Asuka?” Rei says. “Will you stay here?”

“It’s not like I have anywhere else to go, do I?”

“I mean here, with me.”

“Oh,” says Asuka. Rei’s hand is doing more than tapping, now; she pulls weakly on Asuka’s clothes, trying to make her lie down. “Alright. For how long?”

“As long as you want,” Rei says. Asuka hears something different, a sentiment she’s far too familiar with: _Until you get tired of me_.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Like she did the night before, she places her arms around Rei’s waist and draws them both together. Rei fits against her front as if she’d been made for just this act, but what should be a happy union is instead marked by the slight tremor of Rei’s body and the way she curls up slightly, as if doing so will ward off that feeling of being sick.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.” Asuka looks down at Rei, and suddenly there’s something in her hand, warm and soft and smooth. She’s struck, for a fleeting moment, by the knowledge that the Angels were wrong. There’s no way that Rei would leave her, because- she doesn’t want to think of it in case she’s mistaken after all; she’d rather let Rei tell her- but that fear of being pushed away seems now to be a distant, shapeless threat, one that Asuka will no longer have to worry about.

* * *

The ‘chosen time’, as Kaworu has come to call it, comes far sooner than he’d anticipated. The card that allowed him access into NERV had been marked ‘Kaworu Nagisa’, but by the time he’d stepped off the elevator in the EVA hangar, his identity was that of Tabris, the Angel of Free Will. Everything, so far, is under control.

There are two EVA units in the hangar, instead of the promised three. It means little to him. His orders are to seize control of Unit-01 and steal it, or barring that, to control another EVA and break into Terminal Dogma.

The orders, he thinks, weren’t very specific at all. As he approaches the EVAs, Kaworu wonders if that had been intended, if SEELE had predicted he might rebel and left their orders open to interpretation, simply having a contingency plan for each. Or, maybe they’d never thought he could rebel at all: a funny possibility, considering his name.

Whatever the reason, there’s no putting off these orders. Kaworu looks at Unit-01 first, Shinji’s EVA. He could try and commandeer it now, and that’s most likely why SEELE’s sent him in the first place, but that’s not what Kaworu will choose to do. Shinji’s protector must remain free of the controlling touch of Angels, and the First Child needs to be whole again. Kaworu extends a hand to Unit-00, feeling the soul inside. “A little longer,” he murmurs, and a groaning sound fills the hangar: the sound of metal shifting, or maybe something else. “You will not have to remain broken much longer. You will be mended, soon. Everything will be as it should.”

For a long minute, Kaworu waits. He thinks of what will happen once he begins: the alarms that will sound; Shinji, roused from his bed, will come and see him one last time; someone will die, and it will most likely be himself.

“Well,” he says to the EVA. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m sure you’re tired of waiting, too. Shall we go?”

Unit-00’s massive eye flares to life, filling the hangar with light. Around them and in the corridors above, thousands of alarm klaxons spring into a frantic cacophony of activity. Somewhere untouched by all of this, a single phone begins to ring. It reaches the Commander in his dwelling, where he’s been sitting awake all morning, as if waiting for this very thing to happen.

* * *

Rei is jarred from her sleep not by the ringing of her phone and the sirens that have woken Asuka, but by the feeling of having been punched in the stomach. Asuka is already sitting up, her hands on Rei’s shoulders, but Rei hears nothing that she says. She slouches off the bed, fumbling blindly towards her front door. The last Angel has chosen an opportune time to strike, the hour in which waking will be hardest, and this can be no coincidence.

“Rei?” Asuka’s caught up to her, touching her lightly on the shoulder. “What’s going on?” she asks.

A tremor works its way down Rei’s spine, and she doesn’t answer Asuka. Her hands feel numbly along the seams of her uniform, probing for the nameplate Kaworu had given her. It isn’t there, she recalls. Asuka put it down somewhere. Blankly, she goes back and fumbles around the table, knocking over bottles and scattering pills.

“Rei.” Asuka grabs her hand, uncurling her fingers and pressing something into them. Rei looks down, and between the letters of Kaworu’s name she sees her own haggard reflection, cast there by the moonlight. “Are you alright?”

Rei looks up, and at last she finds her voice, though the words that leave her aren’t the ones she knows she needs to say. “Get to a shelter,” she whispers, pulling her hands free from Asuka’s. “Go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Asuka says. “If your place has stuck around through every single Angel we’ve fought, it’s not going anywhere now.”

“It isn’t safe-”

“Rei, listen. Trust me, will you?” Asuka’s runs her fingers quickly down the sides of Rei’s face. “Go do whatever you have to. I’ll be here. Okay?”

“Promise me,” she says in a voice that’s as sickly as she feels.

“I promise. I’ll be here.”

“I…” Rei pauses, having heard something below. The screech of tires, maybe, or the sound of car doors shutting: Section 2 has arrived. “I will return,” she says, and moves hastily towards the door.

“I know you will.” Asuka smiles at her, gentle and sweet. Rei feels her stomach twisting, even long after she’s removed herself from Asuka’s sight and met Section 2 coming up the staircase. Asuka doesn’t know how close the end is, how Rei must be the one who brings it down upon them. If Asuka knew, Rei thinks, she wouldn’t have stayed in Tokyo-3, nor said she loved Rei.

The Angel sirens have stopped, though they still carry on in the distance, echoing over the silent remains of the city and bouncing off the hills. As Section 2 ushers her into the car they’ve brought, she sees lights beginning to flicker on in the heart of the city, what civilians remain preparing to take shelter. There are far less lights than there were before, and yet there are still far too many.

* * *

That feeling of being sick has worsened, and as the car pulls up in front of NERV, Rei isn’t sure whether she’ll be able to stand. Somehow, she does: the only alternative would be showing them, and whoever else might be watching, that Rei Ayanami is nearing the limits of her strength. She fights the pressure weighing down on her, trying to push her back into the seat and keep her there. The cool morning air is like a balm to her skin, but it doesn’t help much, and each step takes a concentrated effort to complete.

As she nears the entrance, she sees another group of suited men, walking behind an exhausted Shinji. Immediately, Rei thinks of the nameplate. She begins to reach for her pocket, but finds that her hand is already there. The metal burns her hand with cold, but she clings to it, extracting it and holding it out in Shinji’s path. He doesn’t seem to see it, or her, but continues walking with every intention of passing her.

“Ikari.” Rei moves in front of him, and now he lifts his eyes, and Rei finds them empty. He doesn’t say anything as Rei grabs one of his hands and pries it open, laying the nameplate inside. Only when she’s closed his hand around it does he look down, and it takes a full second for him to recognize what it says. His face scrunches up, looking as though hundreds of questions are fighting to be freed, but all he can do is stare.

“He gave it to me,” explains Rei. “He wanted you to have it.”

“Kaworu did?” Shinji’s hands tremble violently, and he nearly loses his grasp on the nameplate. The thin line of his mouth parts, drawing a forlorn gasp into his lungs. His lips form Kaworu’s name once again. Then one of the men grips his shoulder, and Section 2 is pulling Shinji past, the nameplate cradled reverently in his palms and tears beginning to droop from his eyes.

No longer having a reason to stay, Rei moves on, past the open doors and into the brightness of NERV, where she knows the Commander will be. He isn’t waiting for her in his office this time, but in front of the elevators; he reaches back, calling one with the press of a button, and together they step inside. Nothing is said between them- no greeting, nor inquiry of health. It seems as if Gendo knows already what Rei hasn’t told him, and he isn’t bothered by it.

“A little longer,” he tells Rei. “I’m sure you know by now what’s happened?”

“The last Angel is dead,” Rei says. She hesitates, briefly. “Ikari killed him?”

“Yes. As was meant to be.”

“I see.” She understands now what she couldn’t before, that to the Commander, the only bond that matters is the one between him and Yui. For that, the loss of a clone, or a child, or even his son doesn’t matter. Shinji nears collapse, but he’s being sent away; his part in Gendo’s plans is done, and now the only pilot that matters is Rei.

The elevator shudders as it enters the deepest levels of NERV. “We’ll have to do this procedure without Akagi,” the Commander is saying. “Fortunately, the software she wrote will control most of the machinery for us.”

“Procedure?” she asks. Gendo nods, but doesn’t elaborate. Rei faces the front of the elevator, her hands again balling into nervous fists. It doesn’t matter if Gendo sees now, for Rei is certain she’s going to die; somehow, the Commander has found a way to carry on without her, or maybe there was a clone body hidden away that hadn’t been destroyed. She thinks of Asuka, waiting at her apartment, who won’t see the Rei she fell for again, but instead be met with a Rei that fails to recognize her.

The elevator stops, and the doors slide open. The Commander leads the way out, and Rei follows automatically, walking towards the dummy plug plant. She turns her head to the side, and there’s the brief thought of running, but if the Commander doesn’t catch her, then Section 2 will, and it won’t be just her, but Asuka too who suffers for it.

Rei stays on the Commander’s heels all the way up to the lone tube that she’s so familiar with. It looms over her, empty and imposing, as she slides out of her uniform clothes, conscious of the Commander’s watchful gaze. At last she’s done, and Rei slowly takes her place inside the tube. She hears it hiss as it’s sealed shut, and now she knows there will be no going back for her, no return to Asuka that she’d been looking forward to.

“Rei.” The Commander stands at the control console, his hand resting on several switches that Rei hasn’t seen used before. “Are you ready?”

It’s a question so strange that Rei hesitates to answer, and it seems the Commander has expected this, and is willing to wait. Here’s a question she’s never been asked before in this kind of a situation, and now it’s clear that it must be death that’s waiting for her. “Does it hurt?” Rei hears herself say.

The Commander pauses, then reaches up and removes his glasses. He tucks them slowly into the pocket by his chest, then meets Rei’s eyes, replacing his hands on the console. “I don’t know,” he says. “I hope it doesn’t. Are you ready?”

“I…” Rei thinks of the nametag she’d carried, Kaworu’s last memento to Shinji. She hasn’t left anything like that for Asuka except their promise, and maybe those feelings that Asuka carries which will soon begin to fade and die. If anything, she hopes the apartment might suffice, that the Rei to come won’t mind Asuka being there. There’s nothing more she can do now, except to get this over with quickly. “Yes,” she says. “I’m ready.”

The Commander flips one switch, and the tube begins to fill with LCL. This portion is familiar, but there’s no welcomeness in the warmth this time, only a tingling feeling that suffuses her, making her shudder. Now the Commander begins to move the other switches and buttons, and the low light that Rei’s been used to all this time winks out without a sound.

There is darkness, and the silhouette of the Commander’s body moving amidst it, the only lighting now provided by the glow of Rei’s tube. Another moment passes, and the strange feeling is doubled, merging with the pressure and pushing on her, as if it’s trying to slide beneath her flesh and occupy her body. Then light, unbearable, burning light; Rei closes her eyes, but it shines through still, and the scream of pain that leaves her is soaked up by the LCL and lost.

Rei wonders if this is what death is like, but death should never be this prolonged, nor feel like every hurt she’s ever experienced. It shouldn’t leave her like this, struggling every second to think of Asuka and her touch, and the loneliness she’ll be resigning Asuka back to. Now her chest aches, but it’s not because of the LCL; she’s beginning to cry, though her tears are lost in the liquid around her.

She doesn’t want to die. The release she’s been promised means nothing, not when Asuka is waiting for her to return. She needs to live, to break out and go home- or she could stay in the warm LCL and let this fuzziness overtake her, granting her the rest she desperately needs. This urge calls to her, gently soothing her; already the pressure from before is gone, and she feels like she’s floating, her troubles lifted away. Asuka no longer matters; Rei is at peace-

Her eyes open, and the light sears them for the fleeting second before Rei shuts them again. Spots dance on the insides of her eyelids, making her head ache. This can’t be right. She thinks of Asuka again, and the memory is met with ambivalence; she tries to remember the feel of her hand, and is met with a blank slate. The pressure is back, crushing her chest, squeezing her, and her next breath is a struggle to take in. There are bubbles streaming from her lips; her hands lash out and press against the glass, as if desperation alone might shatter it. Like her hands, her mind searches frantically for something to grasp. Her name is Rei Ayanami. There’s a stabbing pain in her gut, and now she’s not sure if that’s true. The name _Lilith_ is ringing in her ears, along with the voice of an Angel long dead. Her purpose is- she can’t even get the thought out. She tries to scream again and fails, and this time it doesn’t even leave her throat.

Something else, then. Asuka. Asuka loves her. The burning in Rei’s chest persists, but does not worsen. She need to go home. She wants to be near Asuka. The blood in her head roars like thunder, threatening to drown out her thoughts. It’s because of Asuka that she feels. Her chest burns; for a long moment it feels like her heart has stopped, and her lungs filled with molten fire. The light outside is dimming, slowly, but losing ground to an encroaching darkness. It isn’t cold, so it can’t be death, and Rei finds herself drifting towards it. Would Asuka be on the other side, she wonders, or would Asuka come to retrieve her once she’s passed through it? She wants to imagine Asuka would. It’s impossible that they would separate. Rei’s hands claw at her chest, trying to provide relief that only comes at the thought of Asuka. It’s impossible, because Asuka loves her. Moving into the darkness, Rei continues to cling to the strongest emotion available to her, the one she’s just now realized is love.

* * *

The sirens stopped long ago, and since then the city’s been blanketed by a silence more stifling than comforting, as if Death’s long cloak is sweeping over it, carrying off all the sound, and perhaps more. This stillness began when Rei left, and that it continues is the root of Asuka’s hope, her confidence that Rei is still alive.

That confidence is dwindling. There’s a part of Asuka that’s telling her not to linger here any longer, that there’s nothing left in the city for her, and that she should leave before she’s found. In her typical fashion, Asuka refuses to listen. It’s impossible, since Rei made her promise she’d still be there when she came back, so obviously that would mean Rei has every intention of returning.

Somewhere in the recesses of Asuka’s mind, she remembers that Kyoko had once intended to come back to Asuka, too. Asuka walks another circuit around the room, the only thing she can do to try and calm the nerves keeping her awake. Rei’s okay. She has to be, since she has Shinji there to protect her, and the Fifth- here Asuka stops, and in the dimness of Rei’s room, she has a realization. The Fifth is someone new, an emotional frontier to be explored; if he was the one protecting her, and not Shinji, then he would be the one Rei would want to talk to.

Asuka’s hand meets something cold. She’s reached, unconsciously, for the foot of Rei’s bed, something to steady herself with. She shouldn’t feel so bitter at this, that Rei’s perhaps gone and found herself a second friend, but Rei had said- what had she said? She’d promised nothing. She’s given Asuka a place to stay, and that should be enough; it’s not her fault that Asuka longs for more.

From below, a noise: the sound of a car engine idling down, cutting cleanly through Asuka’s worries. Section 2 must be dropping off Rei. Asuka scrambles over to her position by the kitchen counter, waiting for Rei to open the door and come to her. The energy that she’s been gathering with every waking moment finds a focus, and now Asuka is bouncing on her heels, watching the door with anxious eyes.

The sounds of someone climbing the stairs soon reach Asuka’s ears, and now she realizes something’s wrong. There are too many footsteps for this to be just Rei alone, and they’re heavy, unlike Rei, who walks as if she barely touches the earth. Asuka’s head darts around, and she finds the closet, hidden away in the shadows. She reaches it and tucks herself between the clothes- she can still smell a hint of what must be Rei beneath the scent of fabric softener- and then the apartment door opens, and the mass of people enters.

From where she stands, all Asuka can see is a tight-knit group of suits, which revolve around a single, pale girl. An agent deposits Rei in the center of the apartment, and then they’re all gone, shutting the door and vanishing in their car towards the city, which Asuka now realizes has begun to fill once again with the sounds of life.

Rei doesn’t move, nor seem to notice that Asuka’s gone. She looks as though she might be asleep, having dozed off on her feet. But then, wouldn’t Section 2 have left her on the bed? Asuka slides out from the closet, dislodging a single uniform on a hanger, which falls with a clatter. Still there’s no reaction. Asuka walks over to Rei, beside her, fingers brushing her shoulder. “Hey,” Asuka says. “You’re back.”

Rei doesn’t answer. Her eyes are open and blinking, though they don’t follow Asuka’s hand as she moves it in front of Rei’s face. The occasional puff of hot air leaves her mouth, but nothing more than that. “Rei?” Asuka taps her shoulder, rubs her cheek. “Rei, what’s going on? You finally found a sense of humor, is that it?”

The only reply Asuka gets is another long, drawn out breath. Now Asuka takes in the dullness of Rei’s eyes and the bloodless white of her skin. She reaches for Rei’s hand, only to draw back; Rei is cold to the touch, and even the air around her seems frozen, lifeless. The Angel must have done this, Asuka thinks. Something happened during that fight; something has done the impossible and shaken Rei to this point.

For the longest of moments, Asuka’s left with no knowledge of what to do, or of what can be done. She’s left to stand next to Rei, looking lost and forlorn, until finally, Rei moves. She sways unsteadily from side to side, pitching into Asuka, who lifts her arms to catch Rei. Now Rei clings to her shirt with a force Asuka’s never seen from her before; Rei trembles as she leans against Asuka, but this seems more automatic than anything.

Suddenly it dawns on Asuka how foolish her worries were; there is no bond between the First and Fifth, because there was no need for it. The only thing Rei’s wanted, that she’s now done, was to come back to Asuka. Her hands, tangled in Asuka’s shirt, say this and everything else that Rei cannot.

Asuka wraps Rei up in her arms, walking backward until they’ve hit the wall beside Rei’s bed, where Asuka slides them down until they’re sitting on the floor, Asuka cradling Rei against her. With one hand, Asuka tugs her jacket down from the bed and arranges it around Rei’s shoulders, something to ward off the cold with. She wishes there was something more to do, to be said, that might break Rei out of this frozen state and return her to the world.

“Rei,” Asuka whispers, as much for her own benefit as for the girl she’s holding. “I love you, okay?” She rests her head against Rei’s, eyes closing, shutting out the bright ribbons of moonlight streaming over them. At last Rei moves, unseen to Asuka, the slightest shifting of her eyes. Instead of staring straight ahead, she now looks at Asuka, at the arms around her, and though she does not close her eyes, Rei Ayanami finally allows herself to rest.

* * *

The window is dark when Rei comes to, lit by neither the sun nor the moon, but locked instead in that fleeting state in which the world hasn’t decided if it’s ready to wake. There’s something warm around her: Asuka’s jacket, and Asuka’s arms. She turns her head, and Asuka’s there watching her through puffy, shadowed eyes. Asuka gives up a smile as their eyes meet, and with a tired voice she says, “I thought you were gonna sleep all night.”“I…” Rei frowns, struggling with the words she’s trying to say. At last, they fall into place, and Rei gives Asuka a tentative smile. “I promised I would return.”

“You were… out of it when you came back,” Asuka says. Her arms fasten tighter around Rei, as if by doing this she’ll be able to stop Rei from slipping back into her former unresponsiveness. “Are you hurt?”

“I am simply tired. I-”

The world around her goes dark, and in the totality of it, Rei feels a hint of panic tugging at the base of her throat. Asuka’s arms are still there, and the persistent sound of her breathing, the only things keeping Rei from panicking. “Are you okay?” Asuka asks, and Rei knows she’s detected that little stutter, the only sign Rei’s given that might hint at something wrong. “Rei?” Asuka says, this time more urgently.

Rei turns to answer her, and she’s met with light. Light that burns, but does not blind; it seems to come from everywhere, but that’s only because, Rei realizes, she’s so close to the source. The light claws at her eyes, as if trying to get past them, anything to be as far away as possible from the center of what Rei realizes must be Asuka’s soul. The radiance comes off her in sheets, like those of flames, but they crumble rather than flicker: these are the last, tormented throes of a soul ready to surrender, and yet Asuka is still alive and with her.

Something moves towards Rei’s face: it might be a hand. Rei flinches away from the advancing wall of brightness, and feels Asuka hesitate. “Rei?” she says again.

She must respond. She can’t let Asuka keep worrying like this. With excruciating slowness, she manages to squeeze out that name which should be familiar to her, but that she’d thought of herself as distanced from until now. “Asuka,” Rei whispers, and for a moment the light against her is less harsh and frantic, as if it’s trying to pull itself back together.

“Yeah?”

“I…” It seems essential that she keep talking to Asuka, if only she’ll have a few more moments of rest before the light comes back, as searing and broken as before. Rei doesn’t continue, though it’s come to her now that this is what the Fifth had meant; that perhaps the dummy plug plant wasn’t meant built to aid with the mimicry of souls, but just the merging of a single one; that the Angels who sought Lilith had not been entirely misguided.

But there was something else, wasn’t there? She’d found something more than just the half of a soul she never realized she was missing. There was a realization, and Asuka must know. Not all of Rei was present for this, nor does she imagine all of her will agree, but Asuka must be told. Rei Ayanami has decided that it will be so.

The light around her dims, then fades. The world returns in a shapeless, blurred jumble of colors, in the way that reality often pulls itself into being from the remnants of dreams. Asuka is there now, her body warm and her hands on Rei’s arms, and she’s whispering something urgently. Rei lifts her head, places her fingertips on Asuka’s lips. Asuka falls silent instantly.

Despite the clarity of her thoughts in the tube, Rei doesn’t know what to say, now. She stares at Asuka, as if hoping to glean some idea from her, or if not, that Asuka might be able to read the unspoken thoughts that linger behind her eyes. Asuka only stares, just as bewildered as Rei, her attention captivated by something as simple as Rei’s touch.

Asuka had said she loves her, and her soul seems to reflect the same. Rei can’t see her own, but she imagines what it might look like: a singularity, burning with emotions she no longer keeps restrained, reaching out to Asuka’s as if to be drawn in and kept there forever. Rei lowers her hand, but still Asuka doesn’t speak. Their fingers link together, and a dull throbbing in Rei’s chest tells her she’s been holding her breath for the entire time she’s been thinking of what to say.

She’ll do it like Asuka did: simple, with no room for misunderstanding. Rei draws herself up against Asuka’s body, whispering her name again. “Asuka,” she says, and this time it’s neither of them that move, but rather the entire world that seems to tremble around them. “I love you.”

Asuka doesn’t reply or look away. Instead her shoulders slump, and she leans her head against Rei’s neck, as if those words have lifted an immeasurable weight from her. She realizes, as Rei does, that there’s nothing else that can be said between them, not now. They’re both content to let those words linger into the morning light, an affirmation that nothing between them has gone to waste. There is a home for Asuka now, one that she won’t be so quick to leave, for she’s made it in the emotions that Rei’s grown because of her- one might even say for her.

* * *

Morning touches the city, but hesitates to come through Rei’s window, waiting instead until the last moments of the dawn until it touches down, spreading across the shadowed floor. The warmth creeps towards Asuka, still sitting against the wall. It rouses her from a slumber that’s not too deep, one that’s been punctuated every few hours by a sudden waking to check on Rei. Each time, she’s slept on, unaware of Asuka’s hand on her throat, checking for a pulse.

There are kinks in Asuka’s legs from having sat so long, trying not to disturb a rest that Rei desperately needs. The pins and needles have built up, and now she has to move, a slow unbending of her legs that jars Rei in her lap, eyes flying open as she grabs tight to Asuka’s shirt.

“Asuka?” Rei whispers, and Asuka hears that panicked note, that certainty that Asuka’s grown tired of her and wants to leave. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just stretching,” says Asuka. She watches Rei’s face fall at what she thinks must be an excuse. Rei shuffles off her, stringing together a stammered apology. She tenses when Asuka gathers her up off the ground, carrying her the short distance to her bed.

“Asuka?” Rei says again as Asuka climbs into the bed beside her. Asuka’s legs, fully extended, protrude from beneath the sheets, but she doesn’t mind. This is far better than sitting, and maybe now she’ll be able to sleep for longer than an hour at a time.

Snug beneath the sheets, Asuka turns herself over and reaches for Rei, only to find Rei looking at her, arms outstretched. There’s a timidness to this gesture, a hope that the pride in Asuka won’t refuse this, and that she’ll let Rei hold her, even if it’s just this once.

Asuka nods, moving herself within Rei’s reach. Now Rei’s arms drape around her, fragile like spun glass, and warm: the cold from the night before has gone. Asuka wonders if it’s her that’s done that, or if perhaps Rei’s body somehow responds to the coming and going of the sun. In spite of this, their closeness, Rei’s face is still drawn, her eyes distant. “Is everything alright?” she asks.

Slowly, Rei moves again. Her eyes are remain unfocused, but she guides her hand to Asuka’s cheek, pressing it there. The words that evaded her before come easier this time, a whispered plea that Asuka can’t deny. “I need this,” Rei says, and Asuka nods her approval. Rei sighs and leans into her, her face speaking volumes of relief, as if this isn’t some common decency that Asuka’s given to her but something far more. Perhaps it is, Asuka thinks. When Rei had grown used to returning to this lifeless apartment, to the same clothes and old bandages, maybe she’d also given up on anyone considering what she wanted. Now she has Asuka, and the hope that her love might mean a change, however small.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Asuka places her hand atop Rei’s, leaving it there for a long moment. “Are you going to sleep some more?”

“Yes.”

“Me, too. Good night, then, I guess.”

“Good night,” Rei says. Asuka’s hand slips away, but Rei’s do not: she keeps a tight hold on Asuka, afraid to let her go. There are no more Angels coming, nor Section 2 to watch them, but still Rei wraps herself around Asuka, trying to shield her from a future that must inevitably come, that Rei will bring into being.

She hopes not that Asuka will indulge her, but that after everything, that Asuka would still love her. Rei nuzzles her face into Asuka’s shoulder, forcing herself not to shake. She can’t show any sign that something’s wrong; she can’t give anything away, not so close to the end. Asuka doesn’t say anything, nor react: she’s fallen asleep already, finally giving herself over to the fatigue in her legs and the relief from the ache in her back.

Rei doesn’t sleep though; she can’t. She stays awake, watching Asuka’s face, the subtle movements and the occasional twitch of her lips, either a reflexive motion or what Rei hopes it might be, that Asuka’s trying to speak her name in her dreams. She shudders in Rei’s arms, and this time something does leave her: a murmur, spoken in German. The sounds are foreign to Rei; they cause a feeling of uneasiness to settle over her. She doesn’t know what Asuka is saying, nor is she sure that she wants to. Asuka says something again, a rapid string of muffled words, and this time Rei catches her name among them. Rei holds Asuka against her, running timid fingers across her cheek, and speaks back to her. The words are ones Asuka won’t hear, but still Rei says them as if they’ll be heard; she tells Asuka again that she’s loved, and how she’s needed. She speaks to Asuka’s fears, and hopes they will leave her alone; she speaks into the coming daylight, words that neither of them heard when they were young. Inexplicably, as if she’s heard Rei, Asuka relaxes and slumps into her embrace. She says nothing more, listening for more of Rei’s voice, straining to hear the lullaby they’ve both been missing, that’s only just now been found.

* * *

Asuka’s cold, despite the sun shining directly into Rei’s room and the blankets arranged deliberately around her body. It takes some time for her to gather up her thoughts- disjointed, still stuck wandering dreams in which Kyoko is still alive and Rei may or may not be there- and notice that weight against her body from before is gone.

Asuka’s eyes fly open. There’s no sign that Rei was in the bed with her; the sheets are unruffled, and now the familiar fear of having been left alone returns to Asuka with full force. She sits up, throwing the blanket off, scanning the empty apartment in a panic. There’s only one real route from here into the city; if Rei’s taken it, and if Asuka runs, maybe she’ll be able to catch up.

She’s pulled on her jacket and is reaching for her shoes when from nearby comes the sound of a door opening. Rei walks out of the bathroom, a towel hung around her body, the ends of her hair still damp and dripping. She spots Asuka, hair tangled and looking bewildered, standing in the middle of the room. “Asuka,” she says. “Good morning.

“Good morning,” Asuka replies. Then, to ensure this isn’t another part of a dream, that Rei really is here: “You took a shower?”

“Yes. I thought I would do so while you were sleeping, so you would not have to be apart from me for long.”

“Yeah. That makes sense.”

Rei simply moves toward the closet, pulling out clean clothes from inside. “I…” Asuka begins, following her over. “You’re doing better than you were last night, right?”

“I believe so,” says Rei.

“That’s… that’s good.”

For a while, Asuka finds nothing to say. She’s stymied by this unexpected reality in which Rei, for some reason, has chosen not to leave her. But of course- they'd said they loved each other, hadn't they? Again, Asuka is left with no knowledge of how to react to this, or if Rei even remembers saying those words.

She must have, Asuka thinks. If Rei didn't remember, she wouldn't have stayed; she wouldn't have considered what Asuka wanted, and showered whenever she desired.

Rei's gaze falls upon where Asuka is standing, watching her. “Asuka,” she says. “Is something wrong?”

“Last night.” Asuka is speaking before she realizes it. She catches herself, but it’s too late to do anything else but continue. “What happened?” she asks. “When you came back, you… you weren’t the same for a while. Did something… did the Angel-”

“I cannot tell you.” Rei’s answer is clipped and sharp; she pulls her shirt over herself a little too hard, wrinkling the ironed fabric.

“Why not?” Asuka persists. “I was worried-”

“Asuka.” Rei turns around, fully dressed, and now Asuka sees the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty in her stance. “I cannot tell you,” she says again, enunciating every word.

“Is it because I’m not a pilot anymore?” asks Asuka. “Don’t you trust me? I want to help!”

“And what would you do, if I told you?” Rei walks around Asuka, sitting heavily on the bed. “You are not supposed to be in this country anymore. Your access to NERV has been revoked. You no longer have an EVA, and there are people looking for you. What would you hope to achieve?”

“You want me to just sit here?”

“No. I need you to trust me.”

“And what if I go?” says Asuka. “What if I tried to get into NERV? Would you stop me?”

“Would you go?” Rei doesn’t look at Asuka as she speaks. Asuka sees the walls going up, the resignation from knowing that Asuka will want to leave and go to NERV, and she’ll be left in the quiet of her apartment, which will be nothing but dusty and far too spacious without Asuka’s presence to fill it.

“No,” Asuka whispers, and Rei’s head whips around. Asuka moves over to the bed, sitting next to Rei. Her hand reaches across the sheets, finding Rei’s and holding it. She leans against Rei’s side, eyes half-closed, fighting to keep her displeasure off her face. “I’ll stay.”

“Asuka?” Rei’s hand squeezes Asuka’s, then slips away. Another moment, and Rei is pulling Asuka against her, a repeat of the night before. “What is it?”

“I hate this,” Asuka says. “Being so useless. I can’t do shit. I can’t protect you, and you’re out there getting hurt.”

“I’m fine. You aren’t useless, Asuka.” Rei’s fingers begin running through Asuka’s hair, combing out the tangles with a measure of patience Asuka knows she’ll never be able to match. “You’re here with me, aren’t you? It makes me happy.” Rei angles her chin upward, fixing Asuka with a soft glare: _Tell me you’re useless again_ , it says, _and I will prove you wrong._

“Does it really mean that much to you?” asks Asuka. Rei’s eyes soften, and that’s the only answer she needs. Now Asuka lifts her hands, touching them reverently to Rei’s cheeks; the distance between them has vanished, so as not to exist. They’re separated only by those last few centimeters that Asuka refuses to cross, that are Rei’s to give or keep. Asuka’s there for no longer than a second before she wonders if Rei would even know what a kiss is like, if perhaps she’s moved too fast or asked for too much.

Rei’s eyes have not left Asuka’s, nor does it seem they ever will. She’s entranced by something about them: the color, the emotions, or both. She moves closer- their lips bump together- and then there is warmth racing through Asuka’s body, heating her cheeks and tinting them with vibrant pink. Rei sighs, or seems to- Asuka can’t quite tell. They’re joined not just by their mouths, but by their hands; they lower each other, as if by some unspoken agreement, so they’re lying sideways on the bed.

When they touch the sheets, they part, again in unison. Asuka slowly draws her hands back, her fingers ghosting across Rei’s cheeks. She thinks Rei might have shuddered, or it could have been the bed, creaking again.

“That was your first kiss, right?” Asuka says. She knows it probably is, but still seeks that confirmation that for once she’s beaten everyone else in the world to this one thing.

“Yes,” says Rei. “What about you, Asuka?”

“No,” Asuka murmurs. She knows she must be ruining the moment. “It isn’t.”

“Do you remember who it was with?”

She does; she knows it took place in a closet in Germany in high school, a boy five years older than her wedged in between the brooms and pails and whatever else was there. Asuka shakes her head. "I don't," she says. Rei's eyes regard her for a moment, calculating. She nods, and Asuka thinks she’s changed her mind, that this kiss will not be the one that matters to Rei the most, that she’ll give that honor to someone else, far in the future.

Rei inches forward again. She lifts her fingers to Asuka’s chin, and now Asuka realizes she’s wrong. Rei will remember each kiss of theirs as the most precious of her memories, just as Asuka will regard them as the ones she chooses to relive in her mind when she’s alone; the tens of other failed ones won’t matter any longer. Still, Asuka hesitates, uncertain. Rei has no means to judge whether their kiss is good or not, but Asuka is afraid of somehow disappointing her.  
  
"Asuka," Rei says, and touches her cheek. Her red eyes are warm, and Asuka wishes she could stare into them forever. "Are you alright?"  
  
Asuka nods, but her throat feels shut tight. Rei senses this and begins to pull away, but Asuka is the one this time who lunges across the gap, and again their lips collide. This kiss is harder, needier than the first, because it’s Asuka driving it. Rei’s sense of need is not yet refined, but Asuka knows what she requires- she only needs to ask Rei for it. Rei answers as enthusiastically as she can, a clumsy fumbling into the kiss, but Asuka knows what it is she means, and is more than happy to receive it.

They part, at last, to rearrange themselves on the bed, so that Asuka’s legs aren’t hanging awkwardly off the side. That last kiss had marked a switch; now Asuka holds Rei, who snuggles up against her shoulders and breathes onto the side of her neck.

“Rei?” Asuka says. “You can stay, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t have any sync tests, or anything like that?”

“No,” Rei says. There will be no more sync tests, though Asuka won’t know that. There’s no more need for them, nor any need for EVAs or pilots. The last battle to be fought will be done with man and the weapons of his own making, among which Rei is included. Though it’s Asuka who holds her, Rei returns the embrace, and feels as though the world itself could end around her now, and she’d be happy.

That won’t be how it ends, though. The world will end with Lilith and a sea of humanity. Beyond that, even Rei doesn’t know what might happen. She wonders now if it could be done, if her courage would fail her at the last moment, and she’d not be able to obey the Commander’s orders. Or, perhaps that is the courage she needs, one that will allow her to continue on and stay by Asuka’s side.

“I’m glad,” Asuka is saying. Rei’s attention returns to her, and now she sees that Asuka is smiling broadly at her. “We can stay with each other then, right?”

“Yes. Is there anything you wanted to do?”

“No, I’m fine like this.” Asuka gestures with a nod of her head, and Rei can’t help but smile back. The end may be near, but for now, Asuka is closer. The sun still shines, the world spins on, and the two of them are in love: everything's as it should be.

* * *

Rei doesn’t know when they fell asleep, if it was a decision made by one of them and followed by the other, or a consensus, as everything has seemed to be today. She does know that something jarred her from her sleep, and a moment later, what did it is made clear.

Asuka has drifted to the other side of the bed, still within reach, but not touching Rei. She clings to the sheets, her brow furrowed. From the constant stream of words that tumble from her lips, Rei catches little bits: _Mama, Mama, don’t leave_. It seems to be this, or something like it, repeated in a ceaseless mantra, until Rei hears the change. _Rei, don’t go_.

“I’m not going,” Rei hears herself whisper. She moves across the bed, gripping Asuka by the shoulders and pulling her closer to the center, but Asuka doesn’t wake. She does stop talking, though her lips continue to move, so Rei continues. “I’m here,” she tells Asuka. “I’m not leaving.”

Only, that’s not the truth. She’ll have to leave once the Commander initiates his plans; one way or another, they’ll be separated. And if it isn’t Gendo Ikari who begins Instrumentality, it’ll be SEELE, an alternative that Rei finds unacceptable. With the Commander’s plan, at least, there’ll be a moment where Rei will have control, and somehow she’ll find a way to make Asuka safe: she’ll have to.

She’ll abide by the Commander’s plan, then, if only for Asuka’s sake. She won’t be leaving, Rei tells herself, just going on another mission; she and Asuka will be reunited at the end, and it will have been worth it. It’ll have to have been worth it.

Secure in Rei’s arms, Asuka finally stills herself, retreating back into the deeper realms of sleep where she won’t be so easily plagued by dreams. For a while, Rei doesn’t follow her. She stays awake, observing the girl she holds in her arms, until at last she leans over to kiss Asuka’s forehead: the only gift she dares to bestow, lest she wake Asuka from her peaceful sleep.

* * *

As morning comes, Asuka passes again back over that threshold of sleep to find herself wrapped up in someone’s arms. It takes a second for her to remember that they’re Rei’s; she wonders if she might ever stop having to do that, questioning who would care about her enough to want to hold her through the night. As Asuka moves, trying to position herself so she can get a better look at Rei’s face, Rei wakes up too.

There is no confusion in Rei’s eyes to be seen, no slowly dawning joy from realizing who’s nestled there in bed with her. Instead, Rei’s face is slack, her gaze distant, as if she hasn’t truly woken up, but rather just opened her eyes.

“Rei?” Asuka whispers. She hesitates to move again, for fear that she’s somehow caused this. Rei’s eyes sweep over her, still blank and empty, not even cold like Asuka would’ve expected. She’s just _there_ , and Asuka happens to be beside her: there’s nothing else between them, as there’d been the day before.

Then Rei blinks, and she focuses on Asuka immediately, pupils retracting as if someone’s shone a light into them. “Asuka,” she says, her greeting smile fading quickly. “Is something wrong?”

“You…” Asuka says hesitantly. Something in her is urging her not to say anything to Rei, to pretend everything’s alright. Her love for Asuka should be marked by quiet moments and gentle touches, not Asuka’s ceaseless worries.

“Were you not able to sleep?” asks Rei. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Asuka says, but she thinks she sounds too frantic, eager to redirect Rei’s attention. She reaches for Rei’s shoulder, and that’s when Rei jerks back, nearly falling off the edge of the bed. “Rei?”

“I am sorry,” Rei pulls up the bed sheet from where it’s started to droop along the floor and wrings it in her hands. “You startled me.”

“What’s going on?” asks Asuka. “Did you dream something?”

“No,” Rei says, without meeting Asuka’s eyes. It’s a lie, one that hurts her to tell, but she doesn’t have it in her to give Asuka the real answer. While Asuka dreams of loss, Rei dreams of things she knows cannot be, and sees no point in giving false hope to Asuka. She’ll settle for held hands and the occasional kiss, and save her hopes of a normal future for her dreams.

“Tell me,” Asuka pleads. She studies Rei’s face for any sign of a tell, but Rei’s expression has fallen into a carefully cultivated mask, the one she wears whenever she’s outside.

“I cannot.” Asuka starts to speak again, but stops when Rei’s fingers wrap around her wrist. “I know I am asking too much of you, Asuka, but I must ask it.”

“It has to do with NERV, doesn’t it?” Asuka says. “Or the Angels?”

“I cannot say. If I do, I may put you in danger.”

“I’ve been in danger before, Rei.”

“This is not like piloting.” Rei squeezes Asuka’s hand tighter. Asuka doesn’t know exactly when Rei closed that distance between them, but now she presses her forehead to Asuka’s shoulder, and her skin burns like fire. Rei looks like she would want to say more, but settles for watching Asuka instead, awaiting a response.

“Alright,” Asuka says. Rei nods, but her expression is one of bitter grief. She knows what Asuka is thinking, that again she’s failed to do anything for Rei, and that the rest of their relationship will follow a similar path. “Hey.” Asuka moves back a little, then leans down and kisses Rei on the cheek. “It’ll be fine. We’ll work things out. Right?”

“Right,” answers Rei. Again, that’s not quite true: she’ll be the one who will have to navigate the delicate, intricately woven plans of both Gendo and SEELE, but she’ll do it for Asuka. There cannot be a reality in which Rei Ayanami is parted from her, where after this is all over, they find anything short of complete happiness.

“Rei?” Asuka calls back Rei’s attention. Those red eyes are fixed on her, waiting for her next words, and for a moment Asuka allows herself to revel in this feeling of having everything in the world melt away, for Rei Ayanami _sees_ her. “Is there anything you wanted to do today?”

Asuka would be content with simply staying in bed and talking to Rei, or not saying anything at all. She’s certain that as long as Rei is with her, there won’t be anything in the world to find fault with. Instead, Rei pulls herself out of Asuka’s grip, standing and offering a hand to her. “Yes,” she says. “There is one thing I have wanted to do.”

Before she’s even stopped speaking, Asuka jumps up and places her hand in Rei’s. They move towards the door, stopping only to put their shoes on, and then together they walk outside and begin to climb the tall, seemingly unending stair to the roof.

The sun is directly above, shrouding the center courtyard in the shadows of the surrounding apartments. Asuka glances down at it once, as they near what she thinks is the tenth floor. “Where we are going?” she asks.

“Outside,” Rei says. “You cannot be seen, so I will take you somewhere safe.”

“Do you really think anyone’s out here watching?”

“Yes.” With the last Angel gone, surely SEELE must be readying themselves, and Rei wouldn’t be surprised if they sent a spy or two to watch her. She doesn’t know if they’d also look for Asuka, but as long as the possibility exists, Rei won’t take that risk.

“How many floors are there?” grumbles Asuka. “Why did they make so many?”

“So you could climb them, and complain about it.”

Asuka laughs, her voice carrying down the stairwell; Rei imagines it spilling out into the courtyard, something nourishing for the trees growing there other than sunlight and rainwater. “You’re not wrong,” she says. “I didn’t know you could tell a joke like that, Rei.”

“I did not either,” Rei whispers. Asuka fixes her with a strange stare, but they keep walking, and not another word is said about it. Instead they listen to the birds below, their songs filtering up into the higher levels, eerie and distant and reminiscent to Rei of just how empty the city has become.

At last, they reach the top floor. Rei pushes open the door, and they walk onto the roof with its raised edges and the shadowy, looming forms of the other buildings along the street. “What is it you wanted to do here?” Asuka asks. “Is there something you can only see from up here?”

“I wanted to be here with you,” says Rei. She drops Asuka’s hand and walks a little ways away, finding a patch of the roof that’s shaded by an air conditioning unit. She stands there, her back to Asuka, and tilts her head to look at the clouds drifting above. “I could never spend time with anyone before. I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You mean… you just sat inside before?” Asuka walks over to her, but hesitates at the edge of the shadow in which Rei is standing, waiting to be invited in.

“When I had nothing to do, yes.” Rei turns to face Asuka, and a light breeze ruffles her hair, blowing it across her eyes. Asuka steps forward, fingers brushing the hair away, and now Rei smiles up at her and gestures towards the ground. “Do you remember when we were on the hill after the Ninth Angel attacked?”

“Yeah, I do. Why?”

“Being here reminds me of it.” Rei sinks downward, folding her legs one over the other as she sits. “You told me I was not replaceable then,” she says. “I did not believe it then, but you were right.”

“Of course I was,” Asuka says. She joins Rei in sitting on the roof, leaning over and nudging her with her shoulder. “I’m always right.”

“You were not right about what direction we were trying to go in the maintenance tunnels.”

“Fine. I’m mostly right.”

Asuka’s arm wraps around Rei’s shoulder, fingers finding their way into her hair and slowly stroking it. Rei inches over, laying her head on Asuka and closing her eyes. “Yes,” whispers Rei. Though Asuka is beside her, her mind has gone wandering; she thinks of her copies- would they be counted as ‘dead’ if they never had a soul?- and of Lilith inside her, sleeping, having yielded for now to this identity called Rei Ayanami.

Asuka shifts, adjusting the angle of her arm, and for a moment the world is bright and colorless. Asuka isn’t there any longer, but has been replaced by the light from before, no longer as fragmented or painful to look at. Rei blinks, and Asuka is back, still absent-mindedly touching Rei’s hair, not having noticed anything was wrong.

These moments in which Rei sees the world through souls are becoming more frequent, and whether that’s a sign of her own failure to hold on to herself or just the foreshocks of impending Instrumentality, Rei can’t tell. She’s been lucky so far, as the only soul she’s had to see is Asuka’s, a sight that she wouldn’t call pleasant, but one she can appreciate and hold on to. It would be better than seeing the Commander’s, which Rei imagines would be twisted by his years of struggling to bring Yui back.

“Asuka?” Rei says. Asuka’s fingers pause, and Asuka brings the whole of her attention to bear on Rei, observing her with a gentle smile. Something about that is just too much- the eyes, probably; it’s the kindness in them that makes Rei unable to meet them- and she buries her face in Asuka’s shirt. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Rei.” Asuka’s arms wrap tight around her, and Asuka scoots them both back, propping herself up against the air conditioning unit. “You know, if this place reminds you of that hill we were on, you should come back to Germany with me after this is over. There’s a field near where I grew up. Just grass and flowers for miles around. Not like here, with all the tall grass and trees.”

“You would want me to go with you?” whispers Rei.

“Of course. We’re together now, right?”

There’s a hidden note of panic in Asuka’s tone: she must be remembering whatever she’d dreamed last night, where not only her mother had left her, but also Rei. “Yes,” Rei says. “I am with you. We’ll go together.” She knows that it’s impossible, that it’s a lie, but Asuka’s smile is filled with relief, and when she kisses the top of Rei’s head, that too is an expression of a love of not just Rei, but this apparent promise of theirs, that they’ll stay with the each other no matter what.

Rei hopes, somehow, that this field in Germany that Asuka speaks of will still be there when everything’s over. They’ll go afterwards, if Asuka hasn’t rejected her, if they’re both still alive. Rei feels herself trembling, and knows if she keeps thinking of the future, then she won’t be able to conceal it from Asuka any longer. Instead she looks up, intending to stare at Asuka’s face and memorize it down to the smallest detail, so she’ll have that to accompany her to the end of the world.

Instead, Rei is met with light again. This light pulses in time with the heartbeat that Rei can hear echoing in Asuka’s chest; what she thinks is Asuka’s head turns, and now Asuka is watching her. There’s a warmth now, swelling in Rei’s throat and spreading everywhere else, becoming an unbearable, uncontainable burning. This feeling is so strong that it sees Rei _must_ reach up and kiss Asuka, or else the world might never be right again. Rei lifts her head and feels her lips press hard into Asuka’s, her touch bordering on desperate. She closes her eyes, trying to remember everything about this: the feel and shape of Asuka’s mouth, the low, quiet sounds that Asuka makes the longer this kiss goes on. Somehow, she thinks, if the memory of this kiss can survive into the world to come, then Asuka will as well, and herself, and that field full of flowers that Rei knows will haunt her dreams to come.


	10. Tethys

The first sign that something’s wrong at NERV comes the following morning in the form of a little red dot lighting up on the consoles of every computer station in the facility. By the time Doctor Akagi’s been summoned and the Commander has been called, the problem is obvious: SEELE has made their move.

Rei, asleep with Asuka in their bed, isn’t aware of this until her phone rings, shaking them both awake. When Rei answers, the Commander speaks only a single sentence, one that drains the blood from Rei’s face, though Asuka fails to notice any change in the paleness of her skin. _Come here now_ is what the Commander had said, and so for Asuka’s sake, Rei will go.

“What’s going on?” Asuka says, watching Rei stand and head towards the door. She hasn’t even bothered to change out of her ruffled clothes, the only indication that something is more wrong than usual. “Is it an Angel?”

“I cannot say,” Rei says. It takes all her composure not to allow her voice to crack, to run back into Asuka’s arms and let herself be held until SEELE’s plan is done. For Asuka, she thinks. All of this, for Asuka. “I will be back. Stay here. Stay out of sight.”

She expects Asuka to ask more, to demand answers, but instead Asuka just nods and pulls the sheets up, walking across the room to Rei. “Be careful, okay?” she says. She wraps Rei up in a quick hug, then releases her, though she doesn’t move away. “Come back soon.”

“I will.” Rei’s lips quiver as she speaks. She longs to kiss Asuka, but knows that if she does, she’ll never be able to leave the apartment behind. “I love you.”

Rei turns and runs out before Asuka can say anything in reply. She knows what Asuka would’ve said, and it’s just another thing she can’t hear. Anything, in fact, would have been enough to make Rei stay behind. She’ll be back, Rei thinks, Asuka will be fine, because she’ll be in control of Instrumentality at first, and she’ll make sure Asuka is safe.

She takes the stairs two at a time and continues to run towards the center of the city, unburdened by the fatigue that would normally overtake her. The part of Lilith in her has realized what’s happening, and now works with her to bring her to NERV. For once, they agree; for once, it’s not painful for Rei to see the jumbled mesh of souls and buildings as she sprints down the street. The little speck of Asuka’s soul has long since faded from sight, but Rei can still feel her, if only faintly. Soon enough, she’ll pass out of Lilith’s reach, and Rei will no longer have that warmth. For now, it drives her towards NERV, a constant reminder of what must be done, and of what Rei hopes will be waiting for her when she comes home.

* * *

Asuka’s long since realized there’s no way this is an Angel, not with the lack of sirens and the constant buzzing of helicopters overhead. If there are helicopters in the sky, but no tanks moving into the city, then something else is wrong. Something with the EVAs? An Angel in an EVA? That would make sense as to why Rei would’ve been called. If Unit-01 was compromised- but no, if Rei had been called to pilot, then the EVAs would be fighting in the city already.

High above, the roar of circling planes wafts through the morning stillness, filling the buildings with slow, rolling vibrations. They might be looking for something, or they might be waiting, bellies laden with N2 bombs, pilots hoping they won’t have to press that button to let them loose. There’s still no sign of an Angel, and now Asuka wonders if this is a drill, albeit a very ill-timed one.

Just as she’s thought this, the ground beneath her shifts: nothing too alarming, but distinct enough that Asuka needs to take a step back to steady herself. The helicopters have grown closer; now the beating of their rotors is a pressure on Asuka’s ears, and the wind from them thrashes the trees in the courtyard.

Asuka finds herself having left the bed, and she’s in the middle of lacing up her shoes when she remembers what Rei’s asked her to do. She must trust Rei. If for some reason Rei believes her apartment is the safest place to be, then it must be true. Asuka falls back onto the floor, huddling in the shadow of the bed. So this is what it was like for Hikari and the others, she thinks, just waiting and listening, hoping for a rapid return to a semblance of normalcy.

Suddenly, from nearby, there’s the crack of metal slamming into something solid. Asuka looks up at the shadows spilling into Rei’s room, ignoring the imagined threshold and forming a half-circle around Asuka. They’re clad in dark fatigues, carrying rifles, but there’s something jittery about them that tells Asuka they’re not Section 2, or even NERV. Regular soldiers, then. They must be here for Rei.

“If you’re looking for the First, she’s gone,” Asuka says. The many barrels pointed at her follow her as she stands, though they’re quickly waved down.

“Do you know where she is?” one of the soldiers says.

“Not really. Anyways, if this is a drill, wouldn’t telling you defeat the point?”

The man in front, the one with a single bar on his collar, raises his goggles. His eyes narrow, scrutinizing Asuka. “Aren’t you the Second?” he says.

“Not anymore. You don’t need to-”

The soldier lifts his hand, making a fist. The rifles come back up. The steel bar at the foot of Rei’s bed digs into the small of Asuka’s back; she hadn’t realized she was falling. Instead of the ceiling, there’s only darkness, stretching in all directions. Asuka is still sinking. She’s being weighed down by the air around her, even the air inside her: she can’t breathe, but if she could, she knows she’d shoot right back up to the surface, and Rei’s ceiling would be waiting there for her.

Instead, she keeps dropping. It’s cold down wherever _here_ is, and it’s faintly reminiscent of Rei. Rei’s been here, Asuka realizes. This is where Rei made her home before, in this depthless loneliness. Again, Asuka tries to breathe. She’s got something, a stirring in her lungs, when she realizes she doesn’t remember which way is up. She might send herself irretrievably down, and if she did, not even Rei, who’d be familiar with this place, might be able to find her. Asuka tries to stop what she’s begun, but something is slipping past her lips, cold and lifeless, and she’s being drawn in further.

Then, a shift: light, streaming in rivulets around Asuka, but not past her. The lights settle themselves on Asuka’s shoulders, coalescing into something solid; before their brief glimmer goes out, plunging Asuka back into nothingness, she recognizes them as a familiar, welcome pair of arms.

* * *

The elevator shaft going down to Terminal Dogma is surrounded by layers of concrete and thick steel, but still Rei can feel the explosions above, the explosions by which SEELE hopes to pummel NERV into submission. They’ll be too late. Gendo has been allowed to prepare for this moment, and so he’s ready; Rei, in spite of having been made for this, knows she’ll never be ready. She hasn’t said a proper goodbye to Asuka, who she imagines must be waiting, hearing the same things as Rei, but not knowing what they are.

Again, Rei tries to reach for Asuka’s warmth, but they’re too far apart. Rei lost sight of her a few blocks away from NERV, and there’s no way she’ll be able to feel Asuka down here. The shaft shudders again, but this time, an announcement accompanies it: “Unit-01 has been deployed into the lake.”

So, Shinji’s safe. Now Rei wonders if she could’ve brought Asuka with her, stored her in Unit-00 and sent her to be with Shinji, so at least she’d have the armor of the EVA to protect her. It’s another thing Rei will have to apologize for, if she gets to see Asuka again. No, that has to be what’ll happen. The Commander’s always described Instrumentality as a merging of souls, so Asuka will have to be in there somewhere, and Rei will be able to speak to her.

Finding Asuka will be one thing, but begging her forgiveness will be another. Asuka said she loved her, but love can be fleeting and broken over the smallest of things, and Instrumentality is hardly small.

And after Instrumentality- the Commander never addressed that. His plan ends with finding Yui, and thinks nothing of unraveling everyone's souls. Rei wonders if she might be allowed to do that, if she would even have it in herself to try. Whatever will happen, the world is about to change irreversibly.

Up above, a series of blasts carves a new portion into the nearby lake. The shaft rocks, weathering the shocks and muffled thumps that Rei doesn’t hear. She’s retreated into herself, knowing the Commander will alert her when they’ve arrived. No longer is she in the elevator, but in a field of wispy grass that reaches halfway to her knees; Asuka never told her what color the flowers of her homeland were, but Rei imagines they would be red. It’d be summer; she’d be holding hands with Asuka, and the most of their worries would be the classes they’d return to in the fall. In another world, one without SEELE, they might have had this.

The elevator slows, and its doors open. The Commander walks forward, leaving Rei behind. She lingers only a moment, shrugging out of the clothes she’ll no longer need, then follows after him. Running never crosses her mind. She’s ready; she’ll do this, and Asuka will be safe.

“It’s time,” Gendo says. He pulls his glove from his right hand and extends it, palm forward, displaying the embryo of Adam embedded in it. “You will merge all souls together. You will bring forth Instrumentality. Then, you will take me to Yui’s side.”

“Yes.” It’s so easy now, lying to the Commander. When there’s no remorse to be felt for lying, the words flow from her like water. The Commander moves toward her, but Rei doesn’t feel him touch her. She only feels the burning from before, enveloping her entire body; this time, though she can move, all Rei can do is slump against the arm in front of her, feeling too sick to do anything more. There’s no struggle to retain herself this time, only a joyous union of two things never meant to be contained by a mortal body that thrash inside her, seeking an escape. Involuntarily, Rei takes a step back; the Commander’s hand slides out from her body, now devoid of Adam, and again the world is made of brightness.

The first thing Rei’s eyes fall upon is the Commander, and she tears her eyes away, directing them towards the ceiling. Even the jumbled mess of shifting light above is better than looking at the Commander and the twisted, thorny remnants of his soul, which grate against Rei’s eyes, more sickening than even this merge between Lilith and Adam.

As she looks on, Rei notices there are things above she couldn’t see before: people moving between rooms, lights flickering out with no warning, just fading from existence. Rei reaches further, past the boundaries of NERV, pushing her consciousness towards the apartment. She ignores the souls she finds along the way, the ones she thinks are civilians, until at last she thinks she’s there. The buildings there are all empty, save for one, but there are more souls than one in that room, and Asuka is not among them.

Rei’s gone the wrong way, then; that has to be the case. Commander Ikari is speaking now, and Rei can hear him mentioning Yui, but that’s of the least concern now. Rei sends her mind further, searching, casting a wide net across the city, yet still failing to find Asuka. The lights above her are going out faster; a coldness extends down from above: the reach of SEELE, indiscriminately taking out whatever obstructs the path of their plan.

Her touch reaches the edges of the city, and still Asuka hasn’t been found. The chill touches Rei, creeping slowly down her spine like icy water, numbing her to the truth she refuses to believe. There’s no way Asuka can be gone. They were supposed to go to Germany; Rei was supposed to keep her safe. Those souls that Rei can sense, the ones she thought hadn’t been in her apartment, must be the ones responsible, and Rei knows they weren’t there for Asuka; they’d only just happened to find her. As the light around her fades, the world returning to a mix of orange liquid and metallic grey surroundings, Rei feels herself begin to stagger, slowly, towards the enormous body of Lilith.

The Commander had meant to bring Yui back this way, Rei thinks. She takes another step forward, fighting the vertigo that’s seized hold of her, threatening to pull the rest of the world out from under her. If he believed he could bring Yui back, then she should be able to call back Asuka, who’s far less gone. The Commander calls to her, his voice sharp, demanding an answer for what Rei is doing. There’s something else, too: a hint of desperation, born of the knowledge that Yui is close, tantalizingly so, but now Rei’s chosen her own path. There will be nothing Gendo can do about it. He reaches for Rei with his other hand, the one that hadn’t contained Adam, but Rei has drifted up from the floor, hovering in midair as she approaches Lilith.

“Rei!” the Commander is shouting. “Come back!”

“No,” Rei whispers. Though now she understands what it is he feels, she cannot turn back. Asuka has just gone, and Rei imagines if she could pierce that veil of death, she’d be able to reach through and pull Asuka through it: she’d be that close.

“Rei. Rei!”

Rei moves forward without stopping, advancing fearlessly towards Lilith. Whatever might happen, whatever will come, she’ll endure it for Asuka’s sake. Below, Commander Ikari has finally stopped shouting, and watches in a stunned stupor as Rei floats up to Lilith’s cross. As the pale white of Lilith’s belly rises to fill the field of Rei’s vision, Rei thinks of Asuka: of their arms wrapped around each other, of the warmth of Asuka’s body. Soon, they’ll find each other in the merging of souls, and if not, then Rei will wander them for the rest of eternity, always seeking Asuka. Lilith’s stomach opens up as Rei draws near, offering to envelop her, to take back the soul that should belong here. Rei enters without hesitating, passing into the Angel’s body. There is no thunder to herald this, only a silence that resonates at first within Terminal Dogma, then rapidly spreads to cover the city above, then the entire planet.

The old world has passed away, and now it's up to Rei to find Asuka, and with her begin the journey into the world to come.

* * *

Asuka comes to her senses in a hall. The walls are, as they always have been, white and painful to look at; Asuka squints down into the distance, and can’t see anything more than a blurry haze.

This portion of hall that she’s found herself in is familiar, too. Somehow, she keeps ending up here. How had she gotten here? Rei’s apartment, a fall- maybe she’d hit her head. Only- if she’d done that, then she’d be in a room, rather than standing here,

So now, Asuka turns around. There’s a chair in front of her. There’s a chair because she needs it to be there, because she’s no longer short enough that standing will only bring her chin to the bottom ledge of the window in the wall, because she’s not strong enough to bear standing there now that she’s grown. Asuka sits in it, and now she looks through the window, not sure of what she expects to see. In her dreams, Kyoko is usually a blur of color and tattered memories; sometimes her hair is brown, sometimes it’s blonde, but the hospital gown is always bone-white and the rest of the room is always grey.

It’s not Kyoko in the bed this time, but a small girl with blue hair that drapes around her neck, just barely touching her shoulders. She’s staring at her hands, resting upon the sheets, and there’s nothing in them. Unlike Kyoko, Rei doesn’t say anything, just sits slumped over with her palms facing the ceiling.

“She doesn’t care about you anymore, you know,” says a voice from behind Asuka. “She’s waiting for you to leave.”

“I don’t have to listen to you,” mutters Asuka. She knows without needing to look exactly what’s standing behind her. If she turns back around, there’ll be a girl with red hair pulled up in pigtails and a red dress with white frills, and her eyes will be the same dead shade of blue as Asuka’s. “You’re only trying to hurt me.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” this younger Asuka says. “I’m part of you. You can’t escape me, or shut me out.”

“What’re you trying to tell me, huh? That staying back in Japan was a mistake?”

“No, nothing like that.” Asuka is joined at the window by her younger self, and together they stare in at the motionless shadow of Rei. “The mistake was made long before you were dismissed. The First Child never cared for you. Only her mission mattered. Why do you think she left you to die?”

“Die?” Asuka whispers. “I’m not-”

There was no pain, just the sensation of falling, and the darkness. Now Asuka remembers, and she presses her hands to her torso, feeling for wounds that haven’t followed her into this strange dream. She hadn’t realized she was dead. If her younger self had to tell her this, if she was right about that, then-

“No.” Asuka looks away from the window, focusing the heat of her gaze on her double. “You’re lying to me. Rei said she loved me!”

“She doesn’t love you. Look at her.”

“That isn’t her!”

“Lying to yourself won’t change anything. She’s gone, and you’re dead.”

“It’s not Rei! If that was Rei, she’d find her way back to me. Rei loves me! I’m not going to believe you!”

“Then we’ll just have to stay here forever.”

“The door,” Asuka says. Her head swivels from side to side, searching for the door that should be nearby. “Where is it?”

“You can’t go in there.” The younger Asuka presses her small hand to the glass. Somehow, it trembles at her touch. “She doesn’t want to see you anymore.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” The fog at the end of the hallway seems to have grown closer. Asuka stands up, towering over herself.

“If your only reason for believing this is because she loves you, you’re wrong. Mama said she loved us, didn’t she? And she’s gone now, too.”

“That’s different.” Asuka feels her head turning, the darkness of the hospital room beyond the window drawing her attention back. She’d hoped somehow that Rei might move, but still she’s motionless in her bed, like a doll with her strings cut. “She’s alive, isn’t she?”

“Being alive doesn’t mean she’ll come back to you. We waited for Mama to come back. She never did.”

“Rei will come back! She promised me!”

“Why do you believe that? A promise is simply words.”

“It wasn’t just that. Not with her.” Asuka looks down at her hands, nails bitten down and palms rough and calloused, and clenches them into fists. “She cared about me. She wanted me to be happy. No one else… ever thought about that.”

“So you refuse to move on?”

“If that’s what it means, then yes.” Asuka sits back down, resting her chin on her elbows, gazing into Rei’s room. “Whenever she’s ready, I’ll be here.”

“It’s your loss, then.” Asuka’s younger self begins to walk away, disappearing into the reaches of the ever-closer swirling fog. Asuka doesn’t bother to watch her go. The window now has become her world, perhaps her purgatory, but even a future of doing nothing but waiting for Rei to move would be welcome to forgetting her, to never having the hope that they might hold hands again.

The haze of the hall now creeps along the edges of Asuka’s vision, lapping at the corners of the window like waves upon sand. It advances, little wisps of silver dodging past and between Asuka’s reaching hands, covering the glass with an impassable blanket of white smoke. “Rei?” Asuka tries to get up, but her legs are gone. She’s left with her upper body and her arms, which pound on the remaining glass, trying to get a reaction. “Rei! Rei, I’m here!”

The image of Rei fades faster, consumed by the encroaching fog. When Asuka draws her hand back again, she finds it’s gone. Now the world itself has disappeared; there are rolling waves of light, but nothing Asuka can distinguish as unique. She barely even feels herself. The name ‘Asuka’ sounds foreign to her, but Rei- yes, that’s familiar, and it doesn’t slip so easily from Asuka’s mind.

There are shapes forming in the light, now, and a voice drifting through them. “Asuka,” it says, and the sound of it stirs a fire in Asuka’s chest that she’d thought was forgotten. “I’m here.”

“Rei?”

There isn’t anything left of Asuka that can stagger forward in hope of being held, but she feels herself being embraced anyway. “It’s alright,” says Rei. “I’m here.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere. I’ve become what I was supposed to be.”

“What is this?”

“This is everything, Asuka. Everyone. All the souls of mankind have been joined together now.” Rei grows quieter, her voice thick with remorse. “This is what I was made to do.”

“Why?”

“The Commander wished to see someone precious again.” Something brushes up against Asuka. Asuka looks down, and now the faint outlines of her hands are visible in the light. “There were other people who wished this fate upon humanity, but for darker purposes. I decided to accept my purpose to protect the world from them, but mostly you.”

“But I died.”

“Yes. They killed you. They were supposed to kill me.” Again, Rei pauses, unable to speak for several moments. “After you were gone, I had someone I wanted to see, too.”

“You did this for me?” asks Asuka. “What is ‘this’?”

“In order to merge all of humanity together, the world had to be taken apart.” As Rei speaks, images flash across Asuka’s mind: a sky blotted out by six great white wings; the world riddled with green crosses, its seas turned red; empty streets, where the sudden graves of mankind are marked by clothes and shoes.

“This is my fault?”

“No,” Rei says. The panic that had welled up in Asuka subsides, but lingers, waiting for Rei’s explanation. “Whether I did this for you or not, the Commander or the others would have done this to the world. This is… one of the better ways it could have happened.”

“But everyone’s dead.”

“They are not dead. They can return to life, as can you. Anyone can reform themselves, as long as they possess the desire to live.”

“What happens if I don’t go back?”

“Then you’ll stay here, with everyone else. You won’t be alone, though.”

“My mother.” The words are sudden, surprising both Asuka and Rei. Asuka steps forward- she’s got legs now; Rei’s managed to form her body from the light, or maybe she’d always had it, and Asuka couldn’t see until she got one, too. “Is she here?”

“Your mother is here,” Rei says. “And Shinji, for now.”

“For now?”

“He wishes to leave already.” Rei smiles, looking fondly off into the distance, where Asuka imagines Shinji must have pulled together a body already. How fitting, she thinks, that the first person to come back to reality would be a pilot, so that somehow they might have a say in how the world will be shaped. “He wants to be himself.”

“I’m not letting _him_ beat me out of here,” mutters Asuka. “How do I leave?”

“You have already formed yourself,” Rei says. “Now you must simply wish to go.”

“That’s it? What about you? You’ve got a body, right? You’ll come back?”

“I will know when you leave, Asuka, and I promise I will be there for you.”

“Will I have to talk to Shinji, if I leave?”

“Not unless you find each other. Not unless you want to.”

“Good,” mumbles Asuka. She doesn’t think she could face Shinji, not any time soon. There would be too much to apologize for, and not even the making of a new world would be enough to heal the wounds from the old one. The improper goodbye between them when Asuka left will continue to be their last, until Shinji finds her, or Rei makes her go looking.

“Are you leaving, then?” asks Rei.

“Not yet. You said my mother was here, right? I’m going to go find her.”

“I see.” Already Rei has begun to drift off, her body dissolving into little golden motes that float off in every direction. “Asuka?” Her hands are folded in front of her chest, and it looks like she’s restraining herself, keeping herself from trying to reach out. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I said I’d trust you, didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry you had to die.”

“It would’ve happened anyway.” Asuka smiles, hoping to provoke something similar in Rei, anything that would take the miserable look off her face. “Don’t look so sad,” she says. “We made a promise, didn’t we?”

Rei nods, and then the rest of her is gone, leaving behind a little spiral of light that soon dissipates. She’s still near- Asuka can feel her- but there’s someplace else for her to be. Asuka should be going somewhere else, too.

There’s no solid ground upon which to walk, so Asuka makes do with floating along, or trying to. She passes through streams of light, some strands like thin hair, others so broad and deep they could be rivers. Still, Asuka continues with single-minded purpose. In here somewhere is her mother, and Asuka won’t leave until they’ve spoken

* * *

Asuka doesn’t find Kyoko, so much as Kyoko finds her way to Asuka. They meet in a place where the wisps of light are few: not the outskirts, but the place where the long dead have waited, resting, and are not so inclined to be woken.

Kyoko is waiting for her, though. For some reason, Asuka thinks it might have to do with Rei.

“Asuka,” Kyoko says, and it’s by her voice that Asuka recognizes her. There wouldn’t be any other way: Kyoko’s body isn’t formed, but she’s here, a glimmer of light that dances like fire. Kyoko circles Asuka, and all the things Asuka’s wanted to say to her try to spill out at once, clogging her throat. “I’ve been watching over you, Asuka. You have no idea how proud of you I am.”

Asuka shakes her head, her breath tangling along with everything else that’s gotten her choked up. One thought fights its way free of the mess, a memory: bright arms and a voice that Asuka thought was her own injured mind’s imagination. “You were in Unit-02, weren’t you?” she whispers. “You were watching me from there.”

“The whole time. I was with you, but I could never reach you. You didn’t let the EVA in, so I couldn’t talk to you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Asuka. You’ve found me. We can catch up on everything-”

“I can’t stay, Mama.”

Kyoko’s light goes still, no longer circling, flickering. “Why not?” she asks.

“There’s someone waiting for me. She doesn’t have anyone else who’ll go with her.”

“Who is it?”

“She’s another pilot, Mama. She piloted Unit-00.”

“Her? I didn’t think…” In the silence, a stream of golden specks begins to float in Kyoko’s direction. “Do you love her, Asuka?

“Yes. She loves me back.”

“Are you sure? You could stay here, instead. Once you leave, you can’t return.”

“I can’t. There are some things this place will never have. There’s no flowers, no sunlight. I told her… one day, we’d see those things together.”

“You could have them here. There are no limits here, Asuka- just what your mind can create.”

“I know, but it isn’t the same.” Asuka closes her hand, forming a fist, trying to imagine the coolness of grass slipping between her fingers. “It feels less real, here. In time, I think I’d forget, and I don’t want to do that.”

“I understand.” Kyoko’s light sparkles briefly, shining with such joy that it’s strange to Asuka. She’s reminded of Rei, of how elusive emotions were to her, and for a moment it all becomes clear to her. It seems that Kyoko must sense this too; the light shimmers again, and Kyoko says, “Be happy, Asuka. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

“I think I’ll be fine, Mama.”

“I know you will be.”

“Will you come with me?”

“I…” The swirling of light stops, shaking in place. “No, not yet. I don’t think I’m ready. Maybe in the future though, we’ll meet again.”

“Mama…”

Asuka wraps her arms around the glowing source of Kyoko’s voice, and from it comes a warmth, racing up her arms and spreading throughout her body. “Good luck, my darling,” Kyoko says.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Asuka steps back, closing her eyes and thinking of the sea that Rei had shown her. The water was red, and the beach pale like Rei’s skin. She doesn’t remember what color the sky was, but she doesn’t think it would matter.

“I love you, my dear. Take care out there.”

“Yes,” murmurs Asuka. “I love you, too, Mama.”

If Kyoko says anything else, it’s lost to Asuka. A wind is rushing through her ears; she’s being lifted up through the mire of souls and light, and her body burns with either warmth or cold, maybe both. The world again goes white, but this time it’s welcoming, ushering Asuka through into the new, formless world that will be made out of the scraps of the old.

* * *

It’s the same beach that Rei had showed her. Asuka’s eyes are already open, staring at the sky- it’s purple, strangely enough- and the stars scattered across it. The steady heartbeat of the sea echoes around her, water washing up and down the shore, as if everything is still normal and the sea isn’t red, and the world hasn’t been deserted.

Asuka sits up, dusting white grains of sand off her arms and from her hair. The beach, aside from her, is empty. It stretches to the horizon both left and right, an unbroken, fluctuating line of white and red. Behind her, the remnants of the city lie, broken buildings reaching like jagged pieces of spine into the air. There’s no sign of Rei or Shinji, or even of their passing: it would seem that Asuka’s the first one back, after all.

As she stands, legs shaking, Asuka feels the wetness of the sea overtake her, enveloping her ankles and bare feet in cold water. She staggers out of the reach of the waves, leaving a series of prints in the sand. Now the world is marked, but there’s no one else to witness what Asuka’s laid claim to.

Asuka continues along the shore, leaving behind the place where she’d washed up, mindlessly searching the rest of the beach. If she’d washed up, then surely Rei would do the same. Maybe she’s just a little further away, just a little longer down the coast, a chant that Asuka keeps repeating in her head, until even Shinji’s appearance would have been welcome, if only for the change that it marked.

Yet there’s no sign of Shinji, and Asuka doesn’t find Rei. The moon watches from overhead, its pale surface unmarked by the chaos of whatever transpired below. It sees when Asuka’s feet grow too tired to take another step, when Asuka falls to her knees, exhausted. It observes, just as Asuka begins to wonder whether those visions which felt like dreams were really just dreams, the little heap of flesh and bone, covered in clothes, that drifts onto the beach nearby.

Asuka looks up- she’s noticed, too. As she watches, the white lump she’d thought was sea foam slowly uncurls, and pale limbs push impressions of themselves into the sand. Rei crawls out from the ocean, having been touched by the waves, and yet she’s entirely dry. She stands, eyes sweeping the beach, and they fall on Asuka like twin red beacons.

Somehow, Asuka finds her footing, and she’s standing again. Rei’s eyes have not left hers, not for a second. Asuka takes one step, another, each one draining the paltry remnants of what energy is left in her, and yet Asuka always manages to find more. Rei has started toward her as well, her strides uneven on the sand, but she grows more confident with every step.

As soon as Rei’s within reach, Asuka’s hands find her cheeks and touch her face, barely daring to caress her skin. Rei stops moving, her arms down at her sides. She still hasn’t looked away. _I’m here_ , her gaze says, _I promised you I’d be_.

_Yes,_ says Asuka’s touch. Her fingers curve along Rei’s cheek, deliberate and gentle. _I know. I’m here because of you._

Suddenly, Rei flings her arms around Asuka’s waist, holding her tightly. The painful breath that Asuka’s been holding leaves her in a single gasp, and she wraps her arms around Rei’s neck, bringing their foreheads together. Her legs give way, and they sink to the sand. Rei’s warm breath brushes against Asuka’s mouth, and in it Asuka feels the little shudder of Rei’s relief. They remain where they are, supplicant, entwined in each other’s arms. Both of them refuse to let go. In their own time, they will; for now the world is theirs, and it can wait until they’re done.

**Author's Note:**

> For Primi and Mitch, who have stuck with me through everything.   
> For willofasherah, the original hardcore Asurei  
> For Phollie, who got me started down the Asurei road  
> And for Rosie and all the other Asureis who have followed me through the three years I've been running the ship.
> 
> Also for me, because this was supposed to end with Bardiel but somehow I made it work at 3 AM and then I stayed up until 5 writing the damn outline.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Galatea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750299) by [SighOfLethe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SighOfLethe/pseuds/SighOfLethe)




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